


Each According to Her Needs

by undeadmoonrabbit



Category: Original Work
Genre: (I'm pretty sure this counts as praise kink), Actually just catgirls, Anarchism, Cat/Human Hybrids, Catboys & Catgirls, Dom/sub, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, It's fluffier than the tags make it sound, Light Masochism, Medical Abuse, Mind Control, Praise Kink, Recovery, Sexual Slavery, Temperature Play, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-11-08 15:26:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17983697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undeadmoonrabbit/pseuds/undeadmoonrabbit
Summary: The war is over and the victorious rebels must begin to learn to heal and rebuild. Even the tortured and barren land is starting to show signs of life. But some scars are deeper than the skin, and some of the empire's sins will not be easy to forget.





	1. What They Did

She sat facing away from the door, fixing the far corner of her tiny cell with her eyes, unmoving. Her mind was still racing, even now. Still looking for cracks, even though in her heart she knew that there were none. So her mind was racing in circles. Racing only to race. Only to feel like it was doing something and not-

Not think about-

 

It’s a kind of death, really. And she should be afraid of death. She _was_ afraid of death. She was afraid of this. She was afraid. And yet she didn’t _feel_ afraid. She almost felt nothing at all. No fear, no sadness. Guilt? She felt like she _should_ feel guilty. And sad. And afraid. But all that was in her chest was a kind of urgent motionless haste. _Think think think think think_ , she thought, but nothing came. She wanted to get out of here. She wanted to get it over with. She wanted it to stop.

_What is taking them so long!!_

“Excuse me, miss? It’s time for your appointment.”

 The voice that greeted her was calm and friendly, as if it didn’t belong to a monster. She turned around and stood up with a heavy motion to face the woman who had come for her. She looked at a glance like an unmodified human. She was prettier, maybe. No blemishes. Neat. Blonde hair. She dressed like a young professional in a casual field, in slacks and a tasteful sweater – not a doctor. Very normal and safe. She wondered if she had had anything done to her.

 The woman led her out of the prison and through a brightly lit hallway to a small tidy brightly lit room. She followed quietly, in spite of herself. It _occurred_ to her to take off running, but she didn’t. She’d just be caught, of course, but also... there was something about the procedure? About the nice professional woman in the sweater and... this is just what was done. This was the script. It seemed pointless to resist it. Or rather, she couldn’t find in herself the impetus to resist.

 “Have a seat,” the woman said, sitting down herself on the farther side of the desk in the center of the room. “Make yourself comfortable. We have a lot to talk about. Would you like some tea?”

 The question shocked her back to the present. “Um, sure. I guess.”

 The woman smiled and poured a cup for each of them out of a cute porcelain teapot. “My name is Vanessa.”

 She felt it imprudent somehow to offer her own name. “I see.”

 Vanessa smiled indulgently, like she could read her mind. “First off, I’d like to thank you so much for your cooperation. It really means a lot, and it’s going to make everything so much easier, for all of us. I know this is probably a lot to take in.”

 She couldn’t think of anything to say to this, and it seemed sick to respond to the friendly hospitality in kind, but dangerous to contradict it. She wished they would stop acting like she had choices – like she had chosen this. Why couldn’t they just be rough and _get it over with_?

 She nodded her head a few degrees and put her hands on the tea cup without moving to drink. Its warmth was almost a comfort.

 “It won’t be as bad as you think. You’ll be happy in your new life. You’ve earned that.” _You’re a good girl_ , she didn’t say. “So I’d like to make this as painless as possible for you. Can you tell me right now if you have any concerns or requests that might make this easier?”

 She half closed her eyes, feeling suddenly extremely tired. Questions. “I don’t know... I wasn’t expecting to have... like, choices?”

 Vanessa nodded. “It’s our policy to reward cooperation. You’ll be given a good assignment, too. And benefits, if you want them. To a certain extent.”

 “Ah huh.” She knew that of course. Everybody knew that. That’s why they had that policy. The threat of being twisted into a miserable thrall hung over the entire exchange. Over the entire rebellion. A fate worse than death – as if _this_ wasn’t. _But they can just change my preferences, why the charade ..._ “I don’t know,” she repeated, lamely.

 “Alright. Do you mind if I ask you some questions?”

 “Go ahead.”

 “Well, how do you feel about sex.” Her eyes and easy smile felt like they were boring into her skull.

 She twisted her lips into a kind of almost sarcastic half smile. There it was. She supposed that this was an ‘icebreaker’. “I like it,” she said, flatly. “Bit of a slut or whatever, to be honest. Prefer girls.” She took a sip of tea, finally.

“Then you wouldn’t object to comfort work?”

 “As opposed to what.” Vanessa was so relaxed. It was almost infuriating, but it was working. She knew she was being drawn into the conversation but talking was starting to feel natural. Like how walking down the corridor felt natural.

 “We get lots of people who have an aversion, and we do our best to accommodate them. In some cases we even let reformed persons do intellectual work – if we think we can trust them. Of course, in any case you’ll be given work you find fulfilling.”

 “Sex is fine,” she said quickly.

 “Okay!” Vanessa said, jotting something down on a clipboard with an air of triumph. “Then, would you prefer to be in the care of a woman?”

 “I guess.”

 Jot jot jot. “Unfortunately, more men than women keep girls on staff for comfort. Would it be a big problem if you were paired with a man instead?”

 “I would prefer a woman.” And here she was, going along with this.

Vanessa nodded. “Alright. I'll pass on the request to leave your sexuality alone. How comfortable are you to modifications to sex drive, or openness?”

 She swallowed. She was becoming very aware of the heat in her face. “I um, I mean, if this is going to be my life now.” She paused.

 “Yes?”

 “I guess it makes sense to make it so I enjoy it.” She couldn’t even look at Vanessa any more. What was she _saying_?

 “So, full consent for the doctors and green mages to play around with that?”

 “Yeah, knock yourself out. Fuck me up. Whatever.” She was _not_ looking forward to this. She _wasn’t_.

 

But Vanessa kept up the pretense of professionalism, only smiling slightly as if she had told a joke. “Okay! Excellent. Next question, let’s talk about your intellect.”

 

She froze. Her eyes widened imperceptibly. She knew... but...

“How much value to you place on your intelligence?”

 It felt like minutes past before she spoke, the words coming out hoarse as if they were catching in her throat. “I value my intelligence a lot.”

 “Okay!” Said Vanessa. “That’s okay! We can work with you. There are lots of high level officials who like intelligence in their comfort staff. I think we can even get you someone in r&d who wants a collaborator, as well as a lover. We could even raise your intelligence, if that’s what you want to do, but...”

 She didn’t respond, so Vanessa continued after a pause.

 “Obviously intelligence can be a problem for someone with a history of disobedience. I know you’re trying to make right now, but please understand our concern.”

 “Yeah,” she said. “It makes sense.” _I hate you_.

 “The more intelligent you are, the more we’ll have to modify other elements of your personality, as a matter of policy.”

 “To make me submissive.”

 “In a nutshell, yes. It’s not a bad thing. But a lot of people in your position prefer to keep their original personality, at the expense of their intelligence? Of course, it isn't a trade off for everyone. Some people want to be stupid _and_ loyal. It has its advantages.” Her eyes twinkled.

 

Suddenly, everything she had been putting out of mind came flooding back. She was a revolutionary! An anarchist! She was ... but she betrayed everyone. Would they forgive her? Ever? In a million years? She should.. She should run out of the room right now. She should grab Vanessa by her stupid grinning face and use her as a hostage. She should fight. She’d lose of course, and they’d do something shocking and horrid to her, but ... would her comrades be inspired by her fighting to the end? Or more shocked by her being made an example of. Would they even care? Did it matter?

 

And submission! _Submission! Intelligence!!_ It suddenly struck her what they were even talking about. Yeah, totally let’s make me an intelligent loyal slave of the Empire, Put me to work fucking officers and helping them design weapons. No! No! No! No! no

She should... they’ll let her be stupid? She should be stupid. She should sacrifice _that_ much for the revolution. Her intellect. Her intellect. Her intellect. Her mind . .

 

She was shaking.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said, finally. “I’m not trying to disobey. I’m just. I’m just. It’s a lot. I’m just afraid.”

 “I understand!” said Vanessa. “Take all the time you need.”

 

“How submissive would you have to make me to keep me as intelligent as I am now?”


	2. The Conquest of Catgirls

It had taken the better part of a week, but the town center was starting to resemble a town center. It was blisteringly utilitarian, and there were still several large rocks that needed to be moved from the main road, and the dormitory air conditioning _still_ didn’t work consistently, but the essential buildings were all there, in principle. And outside, wild grasses were beginning to poke through the barren dirt – the power of the world tree. The tree itself was given a special place of pride in the center of the square, the gleaming metal of its sail-like leaves looking green or deep red in the fading evening light.

 

In a nearly empty room coated in a thin layer of sawdust, Sam sat on a cushion, her handheld propped up on a barrel. Her friend Fi leaned over her, practically draped over her shoulders, straining to see the tiny screen. Finally, Sam’s family answered the call and her brothers and sister appeared in the chat window. It was late where they were, and Fi could barely make out their faces. “Is that them?” she asked, leaning closer.

 “Yeah! That’s them. Hi Ward! Hi Sally! Hi Gulbrandr!”

 “Hey Sam,” said Gulbrandr. “Who’s the catgirl?”

 “This is Fi! She’s my commune bestie or something. Fi, say hi.”

 “Hi, Sam’s family! So.. which one is which?”

 Sam dutifully introduced her siblings again. (Ed)ward was the youngest, a quiet fresh faced boy of maybe fourteen or fifteen, just starting to grow a beard. Sally was about her sister’s age, with the same messy brown hair. Gulbrandr was the oldest – mid-twenties, maybe – and thoroughly pierced and tattooed. “Brand is fine, though.” He said. “Or Gul. Sam’s just giving me shit because - ”

 “Gulbrandr Mateo Brown, are you _ashamed_ of the name which you selected for yourself?” Brand rolled his eyes. “Call him Gullbrandr,” Sam said to Fi. “It’s funnier.”

 “Yes, ma’am!” said Fi, swishing her tail. She draped herself even further over Sam’s back, so their ears were almost touching.

 “They’re cool mods though, for real,” said Brand.

 “Yeah, they’re super cute!” Sally added.

 “Uh huh. Sheeee’s a cute one alright,” said Sam, somewhat compressed.

 “Thank you!”

 “I was thinking of getting mods done, before everything went to shit,” Brand continued. “I don’t suppose you could recommend anyone.”

 “Um, no.. I don’t know what happened to the people who did this to me...” Fi frowned. Sam put an arm around her in some kind of protective gesture.

 “Ah, pity. Well, how is everything? Working up a sweat for the revolution?”

 “Yeah!” said Sam, happy to change the subject. “Well, _I’m_ not. I’m mostly piloting the machines. Heavy lifting muscles, these are not.” She flexed a scrawny arm. “Lots to do though. I think we’re making progress, but we’ve barely even _started_ on the fields.”

 “I lift stuff!”

 “She does! Fi’s got, like, catgirl super strength.” Sam stole a glance at her friend. “She’s a good worker,” she added. Fi beamed.

 “And how’s the town? Do you have everything you need? No shortages? Tree working properly? Is there a hospital? When are you going to start getting rail traffic?”

 “Jeez, slow down a little. We’re doing fine, Gul. There’s like, no paper. And our food supplies are kind of. Bread. And cheese, I guess. We have cheese. It’s not bad. We’re not gonna go hungry. The tree’s doin’ its thing. We have a basic clinic and a licensed doctor. There’s no lab, or white mage, so if someone needs microsurgery or something we gotta take them to the city, but we can handle cuts and infections and tumors. And the rail station’s up and connected! We don’t have regular trains coming yet, but soon.”

 

As she was speaking, a tall thin woman entered the room, holding in her hand a heel of bread. Her hair was dyed a steely blue and she wore black.

 “Ys! Come meet my family!” Said Sam.

 Fi jumped to her feet and immediately attached herself to the newcomer (who was called Ys), who smiled indulgently and scratched her head behind the ears. “There’s my girl,” she said. Fi purred.

 “Ys was in the war,” said Sam as Ys pulled up a cushion and sat next to her, Fi firmly attached. “She’s badass.”

 “We were all in the war, Comrade,” said Ys with mock seriousness, but her tone was light.

 “Yeah, but like, you fought in battles. Badass is undeniable.”

 “Keeping the factories open in the face of firestorms and psychic bombardment was pretty badass.” she said. “And I’m not exactly proud of having killed people.”

 “Yeah, those were some tough times for sure. But you know what I mean! And you can use magic!”

 “You can use magic?” asked Sally.

 “I mostly only know battle magic. It doesn’t have a _lot_ of pro-social applications.”

 “It’s good to have, though!”

 “Yeah, absolutely. And if the town is ever attacked by feral mutants I’m sure everyone will be glad I can shoot lasers. And I can use generalized ice magic. It’s not useless. But it’s not the most consequential thing in times of peace. I’m thinking of branching out, once things are less hectic.”

 “Comrade,” said Brand, apparently seriously, “it’s good to make your acquaintance. Gulbrandr Mateo Brown. I fought to protect the western barrier breach.”

 “Yseult. I was involved in a lot of operations. Mostly around the northern capital.” She looked down at Fi curled up in her lap, considered saying something, and instead just patted her head again.

“So, are you two _girlfriends?_ ” asked Sally.

 “She’s my _Master_ ,” answered Fi before anyone could stop her.

 

Sam sighed and frowned and closed her eyes. Ys put a hand on her pet’s side.

“What, like the kink thing?”

 “It’s _like_ the kink thing,” said Fi.

 “It isn’t _not_ a kink thing,” said Ys.

 “Let’s just say it’s a kink thing and then never talk about it,” sad Sam.

“Fi was captured during the war,” said Ys, ignoring Sam. “Or.. before it was a war. During the rebellion. Before the barrier. Before the world trees. They did this to her. Fi is ... it’s short for Fidelity. She doesn’t answer to her old name any more.” She paused, then, “we _were_ girlfriends. Before.”

 “Did I make everyone upset?” asked Fi, plaintively.

“People are upset, but it’s not your fault. You’re a good girl.”

 “It feels like it’s my fault.”

 “It’s _my_ fault if anyone’s. We’re not supposed to have comfort slaves.”

 “You’re seriously not!” said Sally. “What the fuck!”

 “I’ve heard of this,” said Brand. “It’s something the Empire used to do. We –“

 “Fi? Why don’t you go make us all coffee.”

 “Yes, uh, Master?”

 “Thank you. You’re a good girl, okay? I love you. You’re mine.” She kissed Fi on the brow. “They’re not going to take you from me.”

 “Yes, Master. Thank you.” Fi stood up, bowed deeply, and shuffled away.

 

“I’m sorry about that,” said Ys, settling into a more proper sitting position, knees folded under her. “She gets really upset by this kind of conversation. Look. I’m her caretaker, basically. She has psychological needs, because of what the Empire did to her, and I... tell her what to do, and play at being her owner, because she has trouble making decisions on her own, and because she’s already constantly low key freaking out about losing her _last_ master, and because she has panic attacks otherwise.”

 “It’s fucked up, though.”

 “It’s _extremely_ fucked up!”

 “Can’t you fix what they did to her? I think a green mage or a white mage should be able to do something.”

 “We could fix it, but she doesn’t want us to. And we’re trying to respect her consent.”

 “The _empire_ didn’t respect her consent.”

 “No, they _didn’t._ But we are talking about changing a person against her will. Regardless of why she is like she is now. Her preferences come from a bad place, but they’re real, right? And it might just do more damage, to try to fix her mind while she’s fighting us.”

 “It’s something she’ll have to move past, though. It’s not healthy. She’s not flourishing, or whatever,” said Sam.

 “Yes, and we’re trying to get to that point, but in the meanwhile she needs a crutch.”

Sally mulled it over darkly for a minute or two. “It’s fucked up, though,” she said, finally.

 “Yeah. It’s extremely fucked up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sam can bring herself to say 'good worker' but not 'good girl' :3


	3. Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex chapter, if you’re avoiding Graphic Sexual Content But you’ll miss Characterization and Developments if you skip the sex.

Eventually, a somewhat muted Fi returned with two cups of black coffee (there was of yet no milk, to say nothing of sugar) and sat herself down at the foot of her master. Sam’s siblings were polite and kind but also perhaps muted, and the call finished before too long, all parties wishing each other well in their endeavors and good health. The three of them sat together for a little while, Ys and Sam drinking their coffee in no particular hurry and searching in vain for a fruitful vein of conversation. At length it grew dark, and Ys stood up, smiling kindly and ruffling Fi’s hair.

“I think Fi and I should retire for the evening.”

“Mkay. Sleep well. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow?”

“Bright and early. Good night, Sam.”

“Night, Sam!”

Sam waved a slow goodbye, giving a closed mouth smile. Halfway through she failed to stifle a quiet yawn. “I think I’ll maybe head to bed too in a minute or so. Good night you two.”

 

The room Ys and Fi had chosen for their quarters was on the small side for two people, but neither of them particularly minded. Ys was well used to cramped quarters, and Fi enjoyed being close to her master. There was a mattress set up against the far wall by the window, and another still rolled up and bound with twine leaning unused against the wall by the door. They had a short table for writing on or sitting around, a short bookcase (though only a few books – a hard bound copy of _Principles of Black Magic_ , a couple of well loved novels, and Ys’s journal), and a miniature television. It wasn’t the most comfortable quarters either of them had had, but it was far from the worst, and for the short time the two had lived here it was already beginning to feel like a home.

 Fi flopped theatrically on the mattress. Ys walked over and placed a hand lightly on her belly. Her expression was kind, but there was something sad in her smile.

“’sfrustrating,” said Fi.

“The thing with Sam’s people?”

“Yeah. I wish you didn’t have to keep explaining us to people, Master. It feels like everyone’s mad at me constantly. And at _you_ , which is _worse_.” She put her hand on top of Ys’s.

“Do we need to talk about this right now, pet? You might feel more clearheaded in the morning.”

“I might,” Fi said, frowning dubiously. She closed her eyes in thought for a little while. “Master, do you – do you like me?”

“I love you. You know that. I adore you.” She stared straight into Fi’s eyes, as if she might beam the words right into her skull if only could focus hard enough. “You’re precious to me. It was so hard, being away from you. And you’re _such_ a good girl.”

“You don’t even want a slave, though. You said so.”

Ys gave a little twisted smile. “Maybe I’m coming around. _You_ certainly make a good case for it.”

“I’m not _stupid_ , Master.”

 Ys tilted her head and closed her eyes, exhaling almost imperceptibly. When she opened them, her smile looked somehow more severe. “You talk a lot, for a cat.”

“Master?”

But Ys kissed her forcefully on the lips. Her hand that was resting on her shirt slipped underneath, cold on Fi’s warm skin. “I can think of some better uses for that pretty mouth of yours. Can you?”

Fi grinned and nodded emphatically Ys kissed her again, hungrily. There was still coffee on her breath. “Come on, up now,” she said, pulling the non-resisting catgirl to her feat. She walked her to the alcove where they were keeping clothes and other miscellany and with a sweep of her arm cleared off an area to sit down.

“You’re going to suck my cock. That’s what your _for,_ right, girl? That’s why you were _made_ , isn’t it?” She pulled Fi in by her hair, forcing her to her knees and placing her roughly between her legs.

“Yef, Maffer,” said Fi, muffled against the fabric of her master’s pants.

“So do it.”

 

Fi grinned slyly, swishing her tail as she undid her master’s belt and hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her pants, sliding them down around her knees. She lovingly took her master’s soft girldick and gently kissed the shaft and glans.

Ys exhaled lightly and rested the palm of her hand on Fi’s cheek, “Hh,, yes.. Good girl.” She hooked one leg around Fi’s middle back and the other around her neck and shoulders, pulling her in again. She smelled faintly of exertion after the long day, not quite masking another scent which was faintly floral. Fi relished her salty taste and said nothing, humming silently and working small circles with her tongue.

Half moaning half sighing, Ys dug her fingers into Fi’s short red hair, between her large ears as her other hand found her own chest, pinching her nipple through her shirt and bra. “Is that the best you can do, girl? Use your hands.”

Fi eagerly complied, gently squeezing and stroking the base and shaft of her master’s beautiful cock. She redoubled her efforts with her mouth, too, even letting Ys feel the smallest touch of her sharp canines.

Ys gasped sharply, Her arm swung out behind her, bracing herself against the side of the alcove, breathing heavily now. Her fingers pressed harder against her pet’s scalp, her blunt fingernails finding purchase. “Yess.. good.. good..” she breathed, trying almost in vain to keep from crying out.

Finally she failed. Her whole body shivered and she gave a piercing moan. “Yes!! Oh, oh, god Fi, please, yes!” Fi grinned as best she could with her mouth full of girldick. Ys grabbed her with both hands now and almost _shouted_ , and then she just held her in place and silently shook, riding out her climax until finally,

 

“Okay. Good girl. Good. Stop.” It was a real struggle to sound dignified in this state.

Fi stopped.

"Stand.” She stood.

Ys stood up after her, breathless, reaching with one hand under Fi’s skirt to rub against her panties while her other took her by her side. She pulled her into a passionate kiss, heedless of the taste of herself on her pet’s lips. “You’re amazing,” she said. “So gorgeous, so sexy, and _good_ , I almost can’t stand it. You’re perfect” Fi grinned senselessly as Ys kissed her again, and again, on the neck and jaw.

“Take it off,” Ys ordered, gesturing at Fi’s body. “I want you naked.”

Fi (eyes wide and grin wider) pulled her shirt off over her head and eagerly stepped out of her skirt and panties. Ys grabbed her from behind, kissing her on the top of her head and tracing her fingertips up her body from below her hips. She led her back to the wall, and sat down. “Lie down, Fi, and spread your legs.” Fi did, lying as Ys indicated across her master’s lap, heart pounding and breathing rapid in anticipation.

Ys smiled, and touched her pet on the neck and stomach. “Beautiful. Just beautiful. And mine.” Her other hand found Fi’s clit. She was prodigiously wet.

Fi moaned and leaned into the touch, but Ys gently placed a hand over her mouth. “Still, girl. I don’t want to hurt you.” Fi nodded earnestly into her hand as Ys rubbed more quickly against her. Ys removed her hand and with a flourish produced the piece of magicite she wore as a pendant around her neck, making a deliberate point of showing Fi what was coming. Her fingertips began to glow with a pale blue light. “Good girl,” she said, touching them against the cat’s chest as ice crystals formed and began to melt against her skin. “Good girl.”

Fi struggled not to squirm as fingers traced cold ice in long patterns along her body. Her breath was coming in shuddery gasps. All the while a deep warm pleasure was building in stomach as Ys did not let up with her other hand. She tried very hard to be good and not moan, but could not help moaning through her teeth, a pinched whining sound.

Ys pressed against her sensitive places with sharp points of claw-like icicles – sharp enough almost to break skin and sleek and shiny in the heat of the summer evening. Fi was wet all over now, her smooth soft-brown skin even more beautiful with a sheen of cold water, trying so very hard not to squirm. “I love you.”

Fi only moaned again.

 

_I love you. I love you. I love you. Good girl. Good girl. My precious. Mine. I love you, so please... please..._

 

“Are you close, Fi? You can move.” Fi nodded. Ys kissed her again, and again. “Come for me, pet.”

Ys was always a little mortified by how loudly Fi came, truth be told. It would be one thing once they had their own place to live, but in the dormitory.. well, it’s not like there was anyone in the commune had any doubts what she got up to when they were alone at night. And it’s not like Ys herself hadn’t overheard comrades in equally or more embarrassing situations. So she let Fi scream for as long as she wanted, holding the catgirl against herself, taking off her own shirt so that they could touch skin to naked skin.

 

They sat together like that for a long time, not speaking, as Fi slowly recovered her wits and settled into merely cuddling, purring loudly enough to hear from across the room.

“Thank you, Master.” Her voice was sleepy.

“Any time. I _love_ you, you know.”

“I know.” Fi sighed. She was still smiling, but now she looked pensive. Ys pet her back and waited for her to speak.

“I should have let them make me stupid,” she said, finally. “This would be so much easier.”  
  
“Fi..”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are _you_ sorry?”

“For ...” Fi paused, looking sheepish. “I know this is against our principles,” she said, “but.. when I think about not being owned by someone, I just.. It’s just so upsetting. It’s like death.”

“You care about our principles now?”

“ _You_ care about the principles! And ... the People, or whatever. And.. I want what you want.” She pressed her face against Ys’s chest. “I wish I could be good.”

“You’re good. None of this is your fault.”

She shook her head. “Master, I... It sorta is though. I. They gave me choices. Back then.”

Ys held her tight and kissed her brow again. “It’s okay. Take your time.”

 

“I helped them, because I wanted to be _this_ and not in the _mines_. And they would have made me stupid, and I thought, I should let them. I should be stupid because what if I end up helping them do bad things, but I couldn’t! I just couldn’t! I told them where _you_ were. What if they had captured _you_. I can’t believe I...” she was openly crying now.

“Shh, it’s okay. Take your time. I’m not going to be angry for anything you did back then. I can’t even imagine the pressure they put you under.”

Fi nodded “It’s funny... I’d stopped caring about that for the longest time, but. Now I’m yours.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“No.. it’s good. My last master was...” She laughed through her tears. “I feel like I shouldn’t be saying this. You know, they said they’d let me be with a woman.”

“Ew.”

“I stopped caring about the revolution for a while, but I never forgot about you, Master. I’m so glad I get to belong to you finally. So glad...” She was crying again.

 

Ys let her cry for a while before she spoke. “They let you keep your mind so you could be useful, right.” Fi nodded. “Well, conveniently, I have a big problem I could use a very smart kitten to help with.”

“Y.. yeah?”

“Fi, we need to construct good protocols for ethical dominance and submission within an anarchist-communist framework.”

Fi laughed. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time Fi tells somebody she's expressly not stupid, her power triples.


	4. Thesis

Everything felt dull and faint, like her thoughts were filtered through a thick gauze, only reaching her mind as dim shadows. She felt like she had been drifting in and out of consciousness for a while.

_That’s right, I was under… and before THAT I was…_

 

She awoke with a start, gasping for breath like one almost drowned.

 

She slipped under again, letting herself be enveloped by the spiderwebs in her brain.

 

 

Everything felt dull and faint, like her thoughts were filtered through a thick gauze, only reaching her mind as dim shadows.  _Am I awake?_

She sat up, as if to answer her own question. It felt heavy and unnatural. The anesthetic? Or… She stared at her hands.  _Am I awake?_

She tried to stand up.

 

She lay down again. That’s right. The clinic. They must have done it.

The thought filled her with…

 

It filled her with…

 

It filled her?

 

She was filled with that thought. They must have done it.

 

She touched her face. Something was off. Or was she imagining it? She didn’t  _feel_ different. She felt sleepy. But that was probably just the anesthetic.

She was supposed to be obedient now, she thought. Was she obedient? She tried to think about obeying something, but she couldn’t think of anything to obey.

Wasn’t she a rebel, before? She tried to remind herself why she was a rebel. It was… it was all there. The empire ground people into dust, check. It’s destroying the planet to enrich a few hundred assholes, check. It’s coercive and spiritually corrupting and as long as it exists humanity will never reach its true potential. It’s expansionist and violent and it rules by fear and it does this very specific thing to people. Yup, all still true.

But she just felt empty.  _They must have done it_ . 

 

She quietly hummed some songs to herself. Revolutionary songs. Comic songs. Songs from her childhood. Empty. 

 

They must have done it, she thought, then,

 

_No._

_No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, I want to go back, I don’t like it, no_ .

 

She was dimly aware that she had was clutching her pillow to her stomach. She was dimly aware that there were cords sticking out of her.

 

_Ys_.

The thought of that name shook her. She wasn’t completely empty then, was she. She had….

 

_What if they captured Ys…_

 

That thought was like a spark, a little jolt of dread that ignited the fathomless pit of nothing inside her.

 

_What if they did THIS to her_ , she thought.

 

_What if she_ HATES _me,_ she thought.

 

_I’m a bad girl,_ she thought.

 

_I wonder who my Master is_ , she thought.

 

 

 

Everything felt dull and faint, like her thoughts were filtered through a thick gauze, only reaching her mind as dim shadows. “Good morning, Fidelity.” said a familiar voice.

“Fidelity?” she asked, not moving.

“Oh, I’m sorry, were you not told? That’s the name they decided to give you. It’s nice to meet you, Fidelity.”

She looked at the woman sitting by her bed.  _Vanessa…_

“M’ names ...” she tried to form the syllables of her other name. Her real name? But it wouldn’t come.

“Fidelity,” said Vanessa.

“Fidelity,” said Fidelity. It felt right. 

Vanessa looked inordinately pleased. She stood up and softly touched Fidelity’s face. “Good girl,” she said.

 

Fidelity felt the train of her thought suddenly jolted by the words of praise. Her heart raced. There was a lump in her chest. Joy? Fear? Disgust? Joy? _I hate you_ , she thought, but she didn’t. She… She was supposed to hate this person. But.

Vanessa looked at her like a proud teacher. “I’m sorry if that was a little unprofessional. I just can’t help myself, with this part. There’s something really special about the first time, I think.”

Fidelity opened her mouth. It was dry.

 

“I’m going to be your case worker,” she continued. “My job is to monitor your reformation and reintegration into society, so we’ll be seeing a lot of each other. Is there anything I can do to right now to make you more comfortable?”

_Put me back_ , she thought.

_(I hate you)_ , she thought.

_When do I meet my Master,_ she thought.

“I dunno..”

Vanessa nodded. “In a few days, once you’ve recovered, we’ll do some simple tests. It’s nothing to worry about. We just need to make sure everything’s working alright. After that, you’ll begin your training. In the mean time, you just need to relax and recover. I know it can take a while to get your bearings after the operation. How are you feeling?”

“Been better...” 

Vanessa nodded. “That’s quite understandable. And not at all uncommon. You’ll feel better in no time, especially once you’ve entered service. Do you have any questions?”

“Ys.”

“Excuse me?”

“I was wondering if… you caught a rebel named Yseult. With the intel I gave you.”

“A friend of yours?” Fidelity nodded. Vanessa produced her handheld. “It might be classified information, but I can certainly ask,” she said.

“Might be under her deadname…” Fidelity muttered. She felt sick.

 

Vanessa nodded and prodded the device a few times. “No,” she said after a while. “She’s still at large. She killed a police officer.” She frowned. “I’m sorry. They’ll do their best to apprehend her but.. it’s probably best not to think about her if you can help. You have your new life now, and she most likely won’t be a part of it.”

_Was_ that why she wanted to know? If Ys were here. If she were going through this with her. If they had emptied her out and given her some name like Prudence or Constance or Sincerity… would that be better? She realized she was crying, but she wasn’t sure quite why. All of her emotions felt foreign and strange. Vanessa handed her a box of tissues and a glass of water. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“’S not your fault,” Fidelity muttered once she had calmed down enough to speak, though she wasn’t sure if it was true.

Vanessa smiled. “Maybe someday, though. Maybe someday we can get all of the … miserable people, shape them into something better. You’ll see. You’re going to be so much happier. And your friend Yseult would too, if she’d stop murdering officers and let us help her.” She laughed. “Sorry, sorry! Just .. a little daydream of mine. But we do good work here. You’ll see.”

Fidelity was mildly unconvinced, but it didn’t seem like the time or place to argue, and she wasn’t sure she even  _could_ , any longer. She was afraid to try and find out.

 

She took a long drink of the water Vanessa had given her, and finally asked: 

 

“When do I get to meet my Master?”


	5. Mind Control and Synthetic Chocolate

The train sped silently along through the grey-brown ruins of the dead forest on its way to the city of West Bastion. Once, the city had had a different name, but it was no longer fashionable to name cities in the honor of ancient tyrants. Inside the train were dozens and dozens of people, taking advantage of the hard-won peace to travel on business of their own – and among them, sitting across from each other in a semi private booth and separated by a table, were Ys and Fi.

 

“Again, purely as a hypothetical,”

“Purely as a hypothetical,” echoed Fi, visibly focusing. She had a strip of cloth in her hands that she was bunching and unbunching, wrapping and unwrapping, and generally worrying to death.

“If our ideal is for every person to have enough autonomy to participate meaningfully in society, then we need to deal with people who have special circumstances making autonomy difficult. And our approach has to be to deal with those persons in such a way as to ultimately increase their autonomy. Otherwise there’s a risk of creating a static hierarchy. So maybe we can say it’s provisionally acceptable for me to own you, but only if I do so for the purpose of helping you develop as an independent person.”

Fi tilted her head and made a face, turning the idea over for a second or two. “Nope, don’t like it. Sorry, Master. I get that you’re trying to push on the concept of ‘ownership’? But I’m not sure how much give that has, psychologically. It feels pretty set. You can say you want to, like, foster my autonomy or whatever, but it still just feels like you’re saying you don’t want me. I’m sorry.”

Ys bit her cheek in frustration, but sighed and relaxed. “Well, okay. What do you have?”

“Um, I was thinking, what does our goal even look like.”

Ys nodded slowly. “Can you be more specific?”

“Yes, Master.” She took a slow deep breath. “I mean, what if we started by picturing an ideal ethical version of a relationship like ours? For example, uh, one where you actually didn’t want to stop owning me even after my ‘rehabilitation’?”

“In practical terms, it’s probably a bit like an old traditional marriage.”

“Yeah. And people are still out there getting married, right?”

Ys nodded pensively. “It’s fine as long as it isn’t coercive. Which means it has to be mutual, and both people need to have other options. So... we’re good as long as you can meaningfully chose to leave me?”

Fi frowned and squeezed her bit of cloth hard, pulling it almost hard enough to rip in half. “That doesn’t sound very promising either.”

“Maybe it’s fine as long as that’s what we’re working towards?”

 “Master, I think I might be about at my limit.” She looked it. Her ears were almost flat against her head.

“Okay,” Ys said. “Let’s stop, then. Thank you for telling me.”

“May I come over to you?“

“Yes, come here. I need to reward you for being so _good_ , after all.”

 

Fi slipped into the aisle, a faint almost wry smile on her face, and slipped back into the booth on the other side, in the floorspace next to Ys. She avoided the bench but on the floor and rested her head against her master’s knee. Ys allowed herself a single huff of affectionate laughter and ruffled Fi’s hair. “Good girl. Open.” Fi opened her mouth and Ys reached into her bag, removing a precious half-eaten bar of synthetic chocolate. She broke off a piece and placed it delicately in Fi’s mouth, allowing her finger to linger for a second. Mysteriously (or not) the chocolate was still cold.

Fi smiled warmly, purring as she savored the creamy artificial chocolate flavor and the feeling of her master’s hand, delicately stroking her cheek and jaw.

 

And that’s the position Sam found them in when she finally got back.

 

“I can’t leave you alone for five minutes, can I?” she said, grinning and sitting down in the seat Fi had just vacated, across from the two. “This is a _public_ car, you know.”

 “Hi Sam!” said Fi, mouth still full of chocolate.

“Hey, cutie butt. Sooo, couldn’t keep your hands off each other? Didn’t wanna wait until we get to the lodging house?”

“Fi earned a reward,” said Ys. “She was being very brave.” Fi adjusted her position, to be closer to Ys if that was even possible. She was wrapped around her side now, closer to Sam’s eye level.

But Sam’s smile faltered. “O-kay.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” Fi huffed.

“It means okay! Cool! I understand.” But maybe she thought Ys was enjoying it a little too much. Maybe she didn’t like acting like nothing was wrong.

“Am I not supposed to get chocolate now??”

“What? No! Of course not! I didn’t say that!” but it was hard to keep objecting when Fi was staring at you with those big sad eyes. Sam rolled her eyes. “Are you making fun of me?”

“Uh huh,” said Fi.

Ys just smiled. “Maybe you’d better give her something too.”

“Are you serious,” said Sam, but Ys met her eyes.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

She actually looked like she might have been – it was hard to tell sometimes, with her. But Sam thought she understood something in that look she had been given. _This is imiportant_. So she leaned over to her backpack and started to rummage.

“Oh! Look what I got my hands on,” she said, triumphantly producing a can marked with a pale blue label: “Pears! Fruit! From an actual real life tree!”

“Where did you get _that_?” Ys stopped petting Fi, looking at Sam with genuine surprise.

“Some guy at the last station had a bunch! They have orchards in Newhollow now!”

“Woow, thank you Sam! You’re my favorite! After Master, of course.”

“Second best isn’t bad I suppose,” Sam mumbled as she fiddled with the can, finding the tab to open it. “Say ‘ah’”

 

The three finished off the pears between them. Ys ended up showing off a little, freezing the syrup and mashing it up with her pocketknife to make a kind of frozen desert. It was the first time any of them had had reasonably fresh fruit in years, and they enjoyed it thoroughly.

Ys glanced out the window. It was funny, she thought. She and Fi had lived long enough to see the world transformed twice, but Sam, having lived around Bastion her whole life, was probably too young to properly remember wild, living, trees. How surprised Sam would be to see the landscape change before her eyes. To have free orchards, stretching into the horizon, bearing ripe fruit for any to take. She looked across at her friend, and down at the catgirl – no (she corrected herself) – the woman. The traumatized, injured, sick, woman resting against her.

 

 _For a hundred years, or for ten thousand,_ she thought. _For a hundred hundred million._ _Until the end of time, and beyond. Until you rise like the forests. Until the world is mended._

 

“Mrraow,” Fi chirped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fi is technically more than twice Sam's age, so it's actually kind of a bit weird that they have the whole gal pal thing going on.


	6. Imperial Logic

Central West Bastion station was enormous. After so long living in short buildings surrounded by wastelands and ruins, outside under the endless sky, the three felt a kind of awe at the vaulted ceiling, the milling crowd, the smells and sights of the eateries and groceries, the art, the posters, the noise...

They had all lived in similar environments in the past of course, but the atmosphere was different now. Sam was struck by the bustle of peacetime crowds – there was a group of men dancing to music in one corner, and a small crowd had gathered to watch. There were couples or groups of friends enjoying a late lunch or early supper. People were hurrying through or idling on their handhelds or browsing the goods on offer. It was so different from the war. None of these people were afraid a bomb might fall at any moment.

Fi and Ys were struck also by a peculiar absence. Gone were the propaganda posters. The uniformed imperial police with their guns. The advertisements. The restaurants and dispensaries were staffed by workers engaged by mutual contract with the station directly, and gave their goods (if there was plenty) for no money. The few advertisements that there were took the form of informational posters, or promotions of local upcoming shows or art. And yet, the shadow of the empire was not entirely vanished. Even in this age of liberation and all-for-all the people crowded in mock shops and expected to see rows of fake merchandise. Perhaps they had merely come to expect it.

They left of the station and stepped onto Shield Plaza on their way to the lodging house. The ground at their feet had long ago been carved with the image of a large shield; the city’s ancient coat of arms.

“Are you sure there’s no time at all?” Sam pouted theatrically. “But there’s so much to _do_ in the city. Museums.. food.. music.. uh, art. The university has seminars and lectures and stuff. I made a list!” She took out her handheld. “There’s gonna be a thing tomorrow on magic and automation which sounds _fascinating_. The lecturer is supposed to be really good.”

“We’re not going to bail on the convention, Sam. We might be able to do something in the evenings,” said Ys. “But you know how these groups go. We’ll probably end up all eating dinner together.” Sam huffed. “ We’re here on business. I’m sorry.”

“I was just hoping we could spend time together.”

“We’ll have breakfast.”

“That doesn’t _count_. I wanna hang out when you’re _awake_.”

“We live together,” Ys pointed out.

“But it’s the _city!_ ”

“ It’s just four days, Sam,” said Fi, hugging her and squeezing tight. “We can hang out after! I bet the museums will still be there even.”

“Fiine,” said Sam, jokingly rolling her eyes and scratching Fi behind the ears. “I guess I’ll have make do with my dumb _brother._ ”

“Say hi to Gul for us!”

 

 

“Fi,” said Ys, when they were alone, “I’m going to give you an explicit order, okay?” Her tone was serious.

“Yes, Master?” Fi looked up at her with her big eyes.

“I want you to participate fully, and speak your mind, and do your best to make everything go well. Okay? I’m not going to say much. This really is supposed to be about the victims. But I’ll be here for you.”

Fi nodded seriously. “Understood. I’ll do my best.”

The two of them followed the map to the convention center, and the simply printed posters pointing the way to the _West Bastion First Regional Convention on Victims of the Reformation Program_. The two of them had been instrumental in arranging this thing, but it was strange to see it come together before their eyes. The crowd that gathered in the clean room with white walls (and a few artificial flowers here and there, for color) was a peculiar one – there were about forty of them, many heavily modified. Glancing around Fi estimated that many of them were like her – designed and arranged to suit their old masters’ tastes. There were even a handful of other catgirls – it was, after all, a fashion once upon a time. But others of them probably weren’t. Two or three had mods that could only be deliberately strange and off-putting. And something about the woman with angel wings and an air of tranquility did not strike her as one whose appearance had been calculated for the pleasure of any but herself.

A handful – a minority but a sizable one – were here with others. Their masters. These were like her, Fi thought. The people who were stubbornly refusing to have the process reversed. The slaves. There were even two who were here together – excruciatingly beautiful almost fairy-like women who clung tight to each other throughout introductions. Somehow Fi could tell. They had a clear but invisible aura.

Being a group of mostly strangers, they drew lots to determine who would fill the role of facilitator for their first meeting. Fi was inclined to demure, but Ys squeezed her hand and met her eyes. _Remember why you’re here_ , she seemed to say. So she, and also the others like her, drew with the rest. The person selected as facilitator was not any of them, however: they were a scrawny nonbinary with wiry hair and a sort of perpetual grimace who had introduced themself as Mika.

“Alright,” they said, glancing nervously around the room. If Fi had to guess, she’d say Mika had probably never done this before. Or maybe they were just jumpy. “So, outline for the four days. We have this meeting, now, to decide protocol and stuff. Then we go for dinner. Tomorrow all day we socialize and try to build, like, rapport and solidarity. Then two days of discussion, and finally we make plans for next time. All good? No objections?” Nobody had any.

 

“Right, uh, first order of business.” They looked around the table at the assembled group, making almost apologetic eye contact with Ys. “We probably shouldn’t have masters here. A lot of us have trauma.”

That sent a round of murmurs throughout the room. On a sudden impulse, Fi sprang to her feet, raising her hand high above her head. “Yes, uh”, they stared at Fi’s nametag for a second. “Fi, go ahead.”

“Hi, thanks, so, I actually can’t, y’know, function? Without my master? It’s kinda a thing?”

“Hm. Okay. I can see the concern. I also have a thing, though. And I don’t think I’m the only one.” There were a few muted nods.

“Yeah but _I’m_ not the only one of _us_ ,” said Fi. The momentum that sent her springing up was starting to wear off, and it felt _wrong_ to speak back, but she looked down at Ys, sitting beside her and steeled herself. Her master wanted her to do a good job. She tried to remember how free intelligent adults spoke. “If it’s a matter of accessibility, I think there’s a strong case that our needs here are more profound, since a lot of us can’t participate at all without,” she stole a glance. Ys was smiling calmly. “Our masters. I know you’re uncomfortable, but we have a right to be here, and participate.”

“Okay, granted..”

“And whatever we decide, it concerns them? Like, a lot? They’re the ones who have to,” she gestured vaguely in a frustrated attempt at communication, “abide by? The protocols we set? So they should be present.”

“Okay that’s, actually a good point.”

“I _keep telling people_ I’m not stupid.”

“Right. Sorry. Okay, I withdraw my request, unless someone else would like to add something?”

The woman with angel wings raised her hand. “I agree that they need to stay, but perhaps we could stop using the word ‘master’?”

“Okay, good compromise,” said Mika. “Does anyone have an alternative?”

“Technically they’re supposed to be ‘caretakers’.”

Fi crossed her arms in front of her. “Nope, not doing that,” she said. “Bad option.” The other sort-of-still-slaves nodded vigorously. “It makes it sound like _they_ ’re serving _us_. Which puts them _beneath_ us. Which is _wrong_.”

“That’s imperial logic,” interjected Mika (who was getting less nervous as time went on). “Service doesn’t put you beneath your charge.”

“Of course it’s imperial logic!” Fi’s tail was swishing back and forth now. She reached out for Ys’s hand and found it. It was cold. “The whole _problem_ is that the lot of us all had imperial logic carved into our _brains_. It doesn’t go away just ‘cause we know it’s wrong. We still gotta figure out how to.. build something better. Out of what we have. What we are.”

The room was silent for a few seconds. The woman with angel wings calmly and politely raised her hand again.

“Go ahead, Sky."

“How would you feel about using the term ‘lead’?”

 

“You were _incredible!_ ” Ys said once they were alone. She kissed her pet all over, pulling her against herself into a tight hug. Fi squeaked.

“Thank you, Master!”

“Not ‘lead’?” Kiss.

Fi giggled. “I mean, I’ll say that around the others if it makes ‘em feel safe. But when it’s just the two of us, you’re my Master. If that’s okay!” she added quickly.

“It’s okay,” said Ys.

“Do you like it?”

“Pet, it’s _fine_. I _am_ your master, no matter what we call it.”

“Just ‘fine’?”

Ys sighed. She pulled back and stood directly face to face with Fi. “I liked being your girlfriend a lot. I won’t pretend I never miss it. But this is good too. _Really._ ” Fi nodded once, frowning. “I just wish I could tell if I was doing right by you. If you really wanted this.”

“I... want it.”

“And what would you-from-twenty-years-ago think?”

Fi looked at her feet “She’d think that even despite our intentions a relationship like ours would probably be destructive. She’d worry a lot that us enacting a rigid hierarchy would shape our habits and you’d end up becoming abusive” She folded her arms around herself like the thought of it made her cold.

“Shh, I’m sorry Fi. Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up. It is what it is and maybe I should stop picking at things if it’s only going to hurt. You’re doing really good. You were amazing today.” Ys took her hands again. “Let’s just cuddle for a bit until dinner, alright?”

“Yes, Master. That sounds nice.”

 

They sat against the wall, Fi on top, secure in Ys’s arms. It felt good. Safe. Fi could feel her heartbeats slow to a more relaxed tempo. She let herself melt.

“Do you ever think about those days? Do you remember when we first met?”

Fi smiled. “You were completely obviously some kind of designer baby. I remember looking at you and thinking.. what’s one of the beautiful people doing in an underground fighting circuit? But you looked so sad, somehow. And everyone told me you were good.” Nuzzle. “And you were. You were definitely one of the better mercenaries we hired.”

“Good return on investment?”

“The best.” She reached out with one arm, as if trying to grasp at something. “Look at us now. Who would have ever thought...” 

“I had a lot of things to learn after you were taken,” said Ys. “I had gotten used to just doing whatever you said.”

Fi let out a sudden sharp burst of laughter. “Yeah! You totally had!” It was quite the thought. She turned it over in her head and found herself laughing again, doubling over, rolling out of her master’s hands in a senseless heap of giggles.

 

“Wow,” she said finally, sitting up. “Wow. We are quite the pair, Master. Aren’t we.”

Ys just smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like the environment of big train stations a lot. It’s definitely something I would hope still exists in an Ancom Utopia


	7. Colorless Green Ideas

The group had reserved a large table at a restaurant not far from the center. The building, as it happened, was an old one – undamaged by the war. Inside, nearly every surface it seemed: the walls, the ceiling, the dividing barriers between booths, the pillars that ran in two parallel lines through the center of the room, was made of a dark hardwood carved into ornate shapes of men, or animals, or flowers, or abstract patterns. Some of the largest surfaces were also painted, so they stood out from the background like a three-dimensional painting. Fi found it offensively tacky.

Fi had never been comfortable in environments like this. She would have never been allowed, growing up. And then, they were only ever places one went for business, of the dangerous sort or otherwise. Even treatment and years of service training never somehow led to her enjoying _this_ in _particular_. But her Master was here, and she had to serve.

She remained standing as the others sat around her. ‘Shall I get you anything, Master?’ she almost said, but remembered herself in time, cutting herself at “Shall I --” She glanced nervously at Mika and Sky, who were looking straight at her. She glanced at Ys, who was only smiling gently with the same deliberate quietness she’d worn all day. She turned up her lips in an inscrutable wry smile, like there was some joke only she got. “Does anyone want a drink?”

“A cup of tea would lovely, Fi, thank you,” said Sky.

“Coffee, please,” said Ys, trying very hard to telepathically communicate her pleasure with her pet without actually saying ‘good girl’.

Fi gave a joking salute, did a 540° turn and made her way to the drinks as the others claimed seats. She was grateful that Sky had given her cover – it felt like it would have been something like a disaster if only her ~~Master~~ lead had asked for something. Too clear to the others what was happening. Not that they couldn’t probably guess. _Sky is like, perfect_ , she found herself thinking.

 

This restaurant specialized in noodles, and was set for volume. There was a great smorgasbord of different kinds of fried noodles, and noodles in broth, and plain noodles to be eaten with sauce, and a number of things that were not noodles as well: a thick spicy stew, crispy fried dumplings, and a selection of cold items for balance. No fruit (Fi was mildly disappointed to note – the pears this morning had gotten her hopes up), but there were some leafy vegetables, and lots of roots. It was all quite filling, and good-if-maybe-overspiced, and the conversation flowed freely over plates of greasy starch and overflowing cups. 

Fi felt – she wasn’t sure. She had a lot of emotions, but she wasn’t sure what to call any of them. She did feel a sense of belonging, but also like she didn’t quite click right. There was a gap between her and the others. The way they spoke, and moved. She wished her ~~Master~~ lead would tell her what to do, but Ys was engaged in a polite quiet conversation with one of the other ~~masters~~ leads. Every instinct in Fi’s body told her not to interrupt. _That’s right, though_ , _there are others like me I should socialize or something_. She smiled sheepishly at the other ~~slave~~ follow? (were they called follows?), another catgirl. She was tiny, and looked like she was trying very hard to turn invisible. Her hair and fur were both black. She smiled back. A little sadly, Fi thought.

“Hey,” she said, sidling up. “I’m Fi.”

“I know,” said the black cat. “You stood out. I’m Clarity.”

“Not in a bad way I hope? Um, Fidelity,” said Fi, suddenly self-conscious at giving _that_ name. But it felt... significant. Like a sign of fellowship..

“Oh. I was wondering. Fidelity.” Clarity closed her eyes as if to taste the word. “No, not in a bad way,” she added. “You were really cool.” Her voice had an odd trailing quality, like she was focusing very hard on something other than the conversation.

“Umm,” said Fi, “do you want, should I touch you?”

“Touch would be nice.”

“Oh, good,” said Fi, pulling up a chair so she could sit next to Clarity and lean against her. “It’s a bit awkward, huh. Like, it feels just a bit _weird_ with the free people, and _under the circumstances_ it seems _inopportune_ to go to my Ma- _lead!_ My lead. But we have needs right?” 

Clair laughed. There was that sad smile again. “Yeah.. you have it too, I guess?”

“It was the fashion at the time,” Fi joked, resting one hand against Clarity’s knee as she waved the other demonstratively. Clarity closed her eyes and exhaled audibly. “Oh you have it _bad_.”

“I guess...,” she said, but she was in fact already starting to purr.

“Is your... your _lead_ not taking care of you?” Clarity just swallowed deeply and wordlessly wrapped herself against Fi, leaning out of her own chair onto her lap. “Oh, hey,” Fi laughed a bit nervously and scratched her behind the ears. “Apparently cats can pet cats. You’re a, uh,” she glanced around. A few people were looking at them. That was fine, she told herself. They could look. She leaned closer. “Good girl,” she muttered. “Good girl... good...” Clarity’s breath started to catch. She was distinctly, definitely, crying. “No? Bad?” she pulled away with her hand. But Clarity shook her head. So she kept petting.

_Is this how it is for Master?_ She thought. _Am ~I~ like this?_

_Is Master doing this out of pity?_ She thought.

_Am I pathetic?_

A hot tear rolled down her own face and landed on the back of Clarity’s neck and she was taken by a sudden shame. They must look ridiculous. Two catgirls who’d only just met, crying on each other over nothing.

“Are you two okay?” Ys’s voice snapped her out of it. Ys and the other lead were looking at them.

“I’m,” she said, chocking down her tears and managing a smile, “I’m okay. Thank you Ma- my lead? Thank you my lead?”

“That sounds like you’re addressing a duchess. ‘Thank you, lead?’ maybe?”

“I’m okay. Thank you, Lead,” Fi echoed. It didn’t quite sound right either. “I think Clarity might need _her_ lead though.”

Clarity’s lead got up and walked over. He put his hand on hers and tried to soothe her. It was hard to tell if it was working. “You’re neglecting this poor girl,” said Fi.

He sighed deeply. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. I’m trying. This isn’t easy? She needs a _lot_ , and I can’t – “ Clarity started crying again. “Oh, Claire, don’t cry, please..”

“ _Praise her,”_ Fi hissed in the lead’s ear.

“You’re trying really hard,” he said. It didn’t help

“ _You’re a good girl_ ,” said Fi, emphasizing every syllable. “Isn’t she. Look at her. She’s lovely. She has _such_ pretty hair.”

“Um, I don’t know if..” Ys gave him a stern look. “Claire, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. You’re – you are really pretty. She’s right.”

“ _Maybe_ ,” said Fi, “you should take her somewhere private and show her how much you _value_ her.” They were definitely the center of attention now. Fi sighed and kissed her new friend on the back of the neck.

“Right, I should. Um, Claire? Do you want to come with me for a second?”

Slowly – almost reluctantly? Clarity stood, and followed her lead out of the room.

 

“Poor boy,” said Sky, sitting in the vacated seat as the two took their leaves. “He’s in over his head.”

“Poor _Clarity_ ,” said Fi, almost bristling. “She’s _miserable_.”

“Yes,” she agreed. “Poor Clarity. It’s difficult on everyone.”

“I don’t understand why she won’t get treated,” said Mika. They leaned forward to speak from across the table. “Or you, for that matter, Fi.”

“I... well, what was it like for you?”

Mika shook their head. “Bad. I think. All my memories are hazy, y’know? Mostly I remember... floating. Like a trip. I think I didn’t mind it at the time? Or more like... I didn’t have the faculty to mind it.” They wrapped their arms around themself. “But it feels, viscerally unpleasant now. Um. Like, cold, y’know? And slimy. I don’t like thinking about it much.” Fi met his eyes. They looked tired, and haunted.

“Oh, they uh, that sounds a bit different. They made you stupid?”

“Yeah. Happy and dumb. Except everything feels... wrong. And you can’t really tell why, because they took away the part of you that could.”

Fi shuddered. “And you let them fix you?”

“I wasn’t really in a state to be making a decision about that. But they fixed me, yeah. Or, mostly. They did their best but.” Their grimace twisted a little and they tapped their head, “lot of trauma. And I still get fogged up sometimes. You can’t really put everything back how it was I guess. But what about you? You don’t want to be free?”

“I—“ Fi paused and looked at her feet. “It’s tough, right? I’m competent to consent or whatever. _I’m_ not stupid. But like, they fit me with a pretty tight system. It makes it hard to _want_ the wrong things. Or feel the wrong things. Or feel much of anything, without my Master.”

“Your lead,” said Sky, gentle as ever. Fi laughed.

“My lead,” she said, and nuzzled Ys for punctuation. (Ys smiled and ruffled her hair. _My girl_ , she didn’t say out loud.)

“You two seem to be doing okay, for all that” said Mika.

“Mostly, I think,” said Ys. “There’s a lot of... ethical concerns we’re trying to work through, and she needs a lot of support.”

“I think it really depends on the _lead_ ,” Fi said, successfully on the first try. “And I have a really really good one.” She beamed. “The best.” Ys’s smile looked a little bashful. 

“I couldn’t find a suitable lead,” said Sky. “So I let them fix me. It was the right decision, but very hard to make at the time.”

“What made it hard to make?”

She closed her eyes, and frowned very slightly, deep in concentration. “There was a block on the concept. A natural aversion to being free, as strong as the fear of death.” Fi swallowed and stared intently. “And yet, the life I saw before myself, alone, seemed worse than dying. So I let them. It did not seem such a tremendous leap as all that, with no master.”

“Lead,” said Fi, grinning.

“Yes, my apologies.”

“Not very promising, though,” said Fi. “You have to get to the point where you’d be willing to die?”

“So you do _want_ to be free?” asked Mika.

“ _I was thinking about Clarity!!_ ” Fi clutched her chest, eyes wide in a sudden panic at the realization of what she had been saying. Ys pulled her in and gently kissed the top of her head. 

Sky smiled indulgently. “I remember what it was like. It’s not completely unpleasant, but it’s... frustratingly incomplete. Even if you have a good lead, I would think. Although I must say that I didn’t.” She was idly drumming her fingers on the table in what just might have been the most overt expression of stress Fi had yet seen her make. “It was a sickly, unnatural love. To love someone you know you should hate. To love someone so much you wish you would die.” Mika nodded slowly. Ys just closed her eyes. ”It’s been difficult to put all the pieces back together. One thing that I’ve found really helps is learning more about what they did to me. I’ve been studying green magic myself.”

“Really!” Said Fi, still awkwardly squished against Ys’s face. 

“I haven’t managed to use any actual spells yet, but learning the theory behind it helps me wrap my mind around everything. Would you like a copy of the books I’ve been using?” She produced her handheld.

Fi nodded eagerly before her mind could catch up with her body and let her _lead_ release her from her grasp. She fished out her own handheld. _Green magic_. There was something electric about the idea.

 

Sky transferred the books – a collection of annotated excerpts from Murray’s _Fundamentals_ , _Subtle Arts: Exercises for Beginners_ , and the _Encyclopedia of Green Magic_. Fi’s heart raced as she skimmed through the tables of contents. She was aware that her tail was swishing again, but she didn’t care. Learn green magic! How had she never thought of this! She was nervous, and it was going to be a _lot_ of work, but she could worry about that later. 

The conversation gradually returned to other, less emotionally fraught topics, Eventually Clarity and her lead came back, both looking like they could die of embarrassment, and people started filtering out of the building to head home for a night’s rest before the rest of the convention. A thought struck Fi as she and Ys stood to leave. “Oh, hey, agenda item for tomorrow,” she said.

“Hmm?” Mika looked sleepy.

“Like, when Clarity was freaking out and I was trying to make her feel better but probably everyone has things about praise?? What do.”

Mika nodded gravely. “Standards and guidelines for best practice in catgirl praise. Yes, I’ll add it to the schedule.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They don’t have a lot of fresh vegetables and most protein and flavorings are synthetic. Starch heavy, overspiced-to-compensate food is very common
> 
> Assertive Fi comes out to Defend Other Cats


	8. Who We Were

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has just a tiny bit of sexual content and a suicide mention. Just fyi

She lived for these moments.

The maps, the diagrams. The planning. The urgency. The fear. The adrenaline. The coffee and the tobacco and the vodka. The voices. All the sights and smells of the cramped basement where her comrades sat – where she stood before them. She had planned seventeen successful operations before, and was perhaps more proud of it than she should be. It was starting to feel familiar, but it had not lost its edge.

The operations themselves – the chaos, the confusion, the shouting, the silence. The danger. The cortisol. Honestly, those she could bear to skip. And certainly the worst thing about planning an operation was the peculiar fact that it almost always resulted in an operation _happening_. But _this_ was good. The fear but not the danger. The excitement but not the confusion. The vodka but not the magicite. This was her element. She lived for these moments.

“And there you have it.” She pressed her pointer stick between her hands, telescoping it together for emphasis. “Manpower is tight and we don’t have a _lot_ of time, but I think we can make this work if we try hard and believe in ourselves. Any questions? Problems with the plan? As always, I welcome constructive criticism.” A very large man in the back sitting perched on the stairwell with one leg crossed sloppily over the other raised his hand. “Go ahead, comrade.”

“What happens if their backup shows anyway.”

She looked at the map. She exhaled sharply. “We’re already stretched pretty thin. But we can’t afford to abandon this.” She glanced around the room, her eyes settled on Ys.

“Do you think you could keep a strike team busy for an hour?”

“An entire team?” Ys’s eyes narrowed, but her expression did not otherwise change. “I think so. I might have to let myself get taken down. But I can give you an hour.”

“Don’t get taken down. Keep them busy for as long as you can and get out. I’ll try to wrap up my end quickly, if it happens.”

“Okay... is this a sentiment thing, or?”

“Ys,” she sighed, “you’re our best fighter. Losing you is not in any dimension strategic. And also yes, it’s a sentiment thing.”

Ys’s expression was dark. “I don’t want you to jeopardize this for my sake.”

“It isn’t just-“ she cut herself off, tilting her head and pursing her lips in consideration. She paced away from the board, back over to where the others were sitting. “I’m not your _commanding officer_ , Ys. I’m not here to order you to your death. I’m not even your employer anymore. We’re comrades. And, yeah, girlfriends.” Someone snickered. She ignored it. “But that isn’t the point. We’re not going to beat the empire by being better imperials. We can’t do things their way. I mean, like, literally, tactically, we can’t. But even if we could we _can’t_ let ourselves become like them. We have to value each other as more than tools.” She glanced around at the room giving what she figured was a sly grin. “And also I’d really miss the sex.”

 

The planning session dragged on a little longer. No few of her comrades had suggestions, or concerns, or needed clarification on one point. They figured things out as best they could, until it started to grow late and even the most resolute of their number found their focus flagging. There was a point, after all, where further planning was no help. Nobody really knew what would happen when it started. The rebels filtered out of the meeting room, until the only ones left were Ys and herself.

She came to meet Ys as she stood up to leave. For a while the two stood there, looking at each other in the flickering light of the smoky basement. Ys hated that light... somehow it had never gotten replaced. It felt like there was something caught in her chest. Something she couldn’t quite find the words for.

 _Ys is beautiful_ , she thought. It was true. Almost objectively. By design. Her smooth pale skin and expressive eyes were unchanged from the day she had first set eyes on her. Only the somewhat masculine shape of her jaw, the broadness of her shoulders that was only evident if you knew what to look for - gave any hint that she was not precisely as she was meant to have been. She liked Ys’s masculine features, although she knew better than to say as much out loud. She didn’t think she would want to date a statue.

“Ys...” she began, and hesitated. “What would you do if you got captured?”

“Die, probably,” said Ys, lightly. “That’s what the cyanide is for.”

“I’m being serious.”

Ys’s expression didn’t change, but her voice did. “So am I. It’s something I’ve given a lot of thought. I would die. I would rather die than let them make me into a _thing_ again.”

She tried to smile. “Yeah? They might not give you back to your parents if you worked with them. They’d bargain with you. Would you sell us out if they let you be a girl?”

Ys looked at her feet. “No,” she said firmly.

“What if you don’t have the cyanide?”

“Ice magic. I’d freeze myself.”

“What if you don’t have any magicite??”

“I would bite off my tongue.”

“That’s _hard_ , Ys! What if... what if _what if._ ” She felt like she was on the verge of tears.

Ys closed her eyes. She looked dismal. “Love, you know perfectly well. If someone is captured, you have to assume everything’s compromised. Even if it’s me.”

She _did_ actually start silently crying at this. She sat down heavily, holding her knees close to her chest. Ys smiled a little sadly and sat next to her, putting her hand on hers. “What’s wrong? This isn’t like our fearless leader.”

She laughed through her tears “I’m not anyone’s leader, Ys. You gotta stop thinking that way. Everyone does. I can’t personally decide everything for this group. And I shouldn’t. It’s not right.”

Ys squeezed her hand. “Sorry. Comrade. But what’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I can’t help feeling like something terrible is going to happen. A premonition maybe. Or a dream.”

“It might. This is dangerous work.”

“Promise me, Ys. That whatever happens, you won’t get captured? You won’t let them?”

 

Ys was silent for a long time. She knew what she was thinking. Nobody could make that promise. Nobody knew what was going to happen. To them. To the revolution. To the world. And yet... “I promise,” said Ys. They weren’t quite empty words. “And you?”

She met Ys’s eyes and smiled. “I promise.”

Ys gave her what might have been the first genuine smile she’d seen from her all evening. “May I kiss you?”

“ _Please_.”

 

The two sat there holding each other for what felt like a long time. “God you’re beautiful, Ys.” She kissed her again and again and crawled up on her lap, clinging to her perhaps more tightly than was really necessary. “I wanna take that perfect body, and _mess_ _you up_ .” Kiss. Bite. Ys closed her eyes and exhaled a long thin breath. “Wanna fuck you until we can’t _think_ about the _what if what if what ifs_ anymore. Until the morning.”

Ys kissed back eagerly. “It would be an honor and a joy to be of service, comrade.”

“Brat,” she said, laughing and pulling the two of them to their feet. “Come on, up. We’re not gonna do it _here_.”

“We’re not?”

“Wellll,” she looked around slyly. “I guess we _could_ . Although somebody might come _back_ .” She trailed her hand from Ys’s jaw down her chest, pulling her shirt down to expose a hint of naked chest. “Would that _bother_ you?”

Her only answer was a kiss. She returned it eagerly.

 

And that was the last night they would spend together for nearly twenty years.


	9. Lavendar Honey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another sex chapter

“ _Green_ magic, huh?”

Fi was sitting propped on top of the front end of the transporter, her feet not quite touching the earth. Her shirt was folded neatly beside her; her shoes rested on the ground. She had taken them off to enjoy the feeling of the late summer evening on her skin. The only person around was Sam, after all, and Fi didn’t especially mind what Sam saw of her body. She didn’t mind what anyone saw, _really_ , but Sam in particular wasn’t going to make it weird. And maybe she was hoping Sam would show an interest. They had come all the way out to the ruins to have a little time alone. To watch the stars maybe. To relax after the day’s work. It wasn’t officially a _date_ , but Fi was telling herself it might _kinda sorta_ be. The vehicle was still warm to the touch. A gentle breeze was blowing. Their work was finished for the day. Fi felt at peace.

She looked up from the book she had been reading on her handheld. “Yeah! Why, what’s up?”

“Nothing, it's just a bit funny. It doesn't really fit your image somehow. I can’t imagine you all dour in a smoky room _reading the signs_.”

Fi couldn’t help laughing a little. The image _was_ funny. She put on her best imitation of a scowl. “ _The vicissitudes of cognition,_ ” she began. Sam cracked up. “But I dunno,” she continued in her normal voice, “green magic is pretty much about people? Emotional intelligence stuff? It isn’t all grim psychics and evil doctors.”

Sam nodded. “Sure,” she said. “Not outside of the movies anyway. Uh, but _since you mention_ the evil doctors, is this about your,” she hesitated, “your thing?”

Fi exhaled almost imperceptibly and closed the book, putting the handheld back in her pocket. She was going to need to talk about this after all it seemed. “Uh huh. I guess the idea is like.. if I can get a better handle on what they did to me? There was a woman at the convention who said it really helped her wrap her head around things.”

Sam nodded once as if she got it. But she looked dubious. “So you can undo it piecemeal? What are you trying to do here exactly.”

“Not really sure! Just, maybe it’ll help! More self knowledge can only be good, right?”

“I suppose,” Sam muttered. “Help with _what_ though. Are you coming around to getting fixed? ‘Cause I think the first step with _that_ would be going to talk to the white mages in the city.”

Fi’s tail drummed once against the transporter. “I dunno, Sam...”

“Are you _still_ fighting this?”

Fi frowned. “I’m not,” she began, but rethought it. “Okay, yeah okay I am fighting it. But... it’s a kind of death, y’know? I _should_ be afraid of death.” She pulled her feet in. “I _am_ afraid of death.”

“You’re not going to _die_. You’re going to _get better_. You’ll still be _you_.”

“If I’ll still be me after than I’m still me from before, so what’s the problem?”

“That’s not the _point!_ Do you _want_ to need Ys’s say-so to do anything?”

“I wanna be a good girl... wanna be loved...”

“Do you need a _MASTER_ to be good?” Fi pulled her limbs even closer like she thought she could disappear if she could just get compact enough. “Does Ys need to be your _MASTER_ to love you?!”

“No...” she was hyperventilating. She was aware that she was hyperventilating. She tried to focus on her breathing. It didn’t help.

”Than WHY?”

“Because ---“ Fi squeezed her eyes. “Because because _because_ because because!”

“Because of the _ACTION BLOCKS_ , Fi, you know that, right?! Because they won’t LET you! Do you _LIKE_ having action blocks?”

“ _NO I HATE IT!_ ”

 

The silence of the evening fell like a curtain. Fi’s eyes were darting from side to side, her thoughts racing. She had to – she had to – she had to –

 

_Don’t panic.. don’t..._

 

But she couldn’t stop her heart from pounding. She had to get out. But there was nowhere to run. But she had to get out. But there was nowhere to run. She ran. Sam didn’t stop her.

 

Sam was still there a minute later when a shame-faced Fi came back to retrieve her shirt and shoes. Her feet and back were dirty. She had obviously been crying.

“Hey.”

“Hey...”

Sam stepped out from around the machine. “Fi... I’m so sorry.”

“Master told you to say that.”

She didn’t deny it. “Fi, I am _so_ sorry.”

“You meant it though.”

“It was just -”

“I’m not _stupid!_ ”

“I _know_ you’re not stupid. I _am_ sorry. I hurt you. It wasn’t right, or helpful. And I won’t talk about it anymore if you don’t want.” She looked at the ground.

“Sam...” Fi took her arm. “I.. I’m sorry too. The stuff you said wasn’t wrong. I .. shouldn’t react like that. ‘M just defensive I guess.”

“I shouted at you...”

“Sam? Are we good? I'm not mad at you. Are you mad at me?” Her eyes were a little pleading. She didn’t want to loose this- this connection. She wanted Sam in her life. Her silly, bright, perpetually indignant commune bestie. Her friend.

“Fi.. I was never. I couldn’t ever be mad at _you_.”

“Never ever?”

Sam gamely tried for a smile. “Well, it’s hard to imagine anyway. I was just a bit frustrated.”

Fi smiled back. “Do you wanna kiss?”

“What?”

“I’ve, uh, wanted to kiss you for a while I think. It might help? Kiss and make up? Or something?

Sam stared back, glancing down at Fi’s half naked body, as if seeing her for the first time. In a way she was. For once, almost without shame, she let herself really, really look. And then she looked away again, mortified. “I...” she said. “What about Ys?” It was a weak objection and she knew it.

”She wants us to, haven’t you noticed? Always trying to find us time alone.. getting you to give me treats and stuff.. she thinks it’d probably be good if I had some more less unequal relationships, right? And .. I need a lot of attention.” Sam frowned. “I’ve gotten pretty good at doing things I think my _Lead_ would probably want! It’s _like_ independence. Almost.”

“That’s not it. I... don’t wanna take advantage of you?”

”And what if I _want_ it. Am I supposed to just never have sex again ‘cause you all think I’m not competent or whatever?”

“That’s - DO you want it? Or do you wanna make your _master_ happy?”

Fi closed her eyes. “Master.... my _Lead_...” she hesitated. “Ys,” she said in a small voice. “....Ys is a good Lead. She wouldn’t want it if it wasn’t something I wanted.”

Sam sighed. It felt like playing with fire, but Fi looked almost _sad_. And, if she was being honest. She did want it. She’d wanted it for a long time. Gingerly, as if she were afraid something might break, she brushed her fingertips over her friend’s cheeks, feeling the moisture from the spent tears. She leaned in hesitantly.

Fi leaned in the rest of the way to meet her, giving Sam a very gentle peck on the lips. Sam blushed furiously and kissed back with a hunger that surprised her. She had kissed girls before, and a boy once, but it had been a long time. Her breathing was shallow. Her eyes were wide.

“You can touch,” Fi said, taking Sam’s limp hand by the wrist and guiding it to her chest. Sam stared at her, and tentatively began to trace along the contours of her body. Her touch was soft – it almost tickled. Fi smiled warmly, relishing her friend’s mute shock. She went in for another kiss, deeper this time. Sam was – Sam was lovely. Adorable. Scrawny. She wanted to eat her up.

It was different than with her Master. It was an emotion she hadn’t felt in a while.

 

Fi led Sam by the hand back to the vehicle, breathing deeply in anticipation. “Sam, have you, uh, done this before?”

“Couple times,” Sam muttered as she kneeled down to help Fi out of her skirt and panties. Fi leaned back against the metal chassis, bracing herself. Sam tossed the rest of her clothes up top with her shirt, handheld and all. They landed in an unceremonious heap. “You’re just..” _you’re just unbearably hot_ , she almost said, but stopped herself. It felt redundant. Ridiculous. Obvious. And even thinking it reminded Sam of what _they_ did to her. It was dangerous territory. So instead she placed her hands gently on Fi's sides, and leaned in to kiss her on the chest, and the stomach, and down to--

Fi shuddered at the feeling of Sam’s mouth on her clit. But Sam abruptly stopped. “Are you –“ she said, “Did they –“

“Oh!” She almost laughed in realization. “Yeah! I’m delicious.”

“They _flavored_ your _body fluids?_ ”

“Do you not like it?”

Sam frowned at her. “Kinda makes me angry. Reminds me what they did.”

“It’s.. I mean.. It’s something I’d probably keep even if I did decide to get fixed. Is there something wrong with how I taste?”

“No! No, just.” She sighed. She really couldn’t avoid talking about it. “Sometimes I wish I could’ve met you _before_.”

“You might not have liked me so much if we’d met back then. You might not’ve gotten along with the person I was.”

“But I wish I could know the _real_ you.”

“I _am_ the real me. I’m not a _fake person_ , Sam.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean... I mean.. Just – well, you know.” Sam trailed off, lamely. Fi sighed.

“Y’know,” Fi said, “they changed around my sexual orientation a bit when I was under. I guess they were trying to make me attracted to men, but it didn’t quite stick, y’know?” Sam looked up in disbelief at Fi’s face. She was _grinning_ , her sharp canines glinting like fangs in the fading light. “I can get _aroused_ by men, but it’s different from _attraction_ , right? So for years and years they kept me fucking my old master and his creepy friends, but I could never stop thinking about -”

“You’re _goading_ me!!”

“You’re _hotter_ angry than sad.” Her eyes were shining.

“Oh. _Oh._ ” Sam took a deep breath, smiled a bit too widely, and, with a sudden quick motion, began eating Fi out with as much furious vigor as she could muster. Fi felt her breath catch as one – than two of Sam’s fingers slipped inside her, moving with a slow rhythm as she focused her attention on Fi’s clit. Her messy hair splayed all over Fi’s stomach. Fi parted it a little for a better look at her lover’s face. She let herself moan, relishing the deep warmth that was rising in her body, the sensations of Sam’s clumsy efforts.

“Yeah? That good?” Said Sam, looking up, gasping for air.

Fi showed her teeth again and grinned back. “Hey, I’m easy. _They_ saw to that. Wouldn’t want a slave who was _hard to get off_.”

Sam took another breath and stood, leaning in, pressing against her, faces almost touching. Fi shuddered despite herself as Sam redoubled her efforts with her fingers. She whispered:

“You don’t belong to them, Fi. You’re _ours_. You’re _one of us_. And we are _never letting you go._ ”

“Say – say it again.”

“We are _never never_ _NEVER_ going to _let them have you._ ”

“Please–“ She gasped.

 _“_ _NEVER_   _!”_

Fi grabbed Sam by the sides of her head and pulled her into a deep kiss. “I’m close, Sam... finish me?” Sam nodded, and let Fi guide her head back down. Before long, Fi was shrieking out her climax when she suddenly found Sam’s mouth on hers, almost smothering. She moaned into Sam’s kiss, tangling her fingers in her hair.

 

_Oh. Is she trying to stop me from screaming?_

 

She did her best to be silent – she really did. She didn’t want Sam to be uncomfortable. But it wasn’t easy. She clung hard and leaned forward, pressing against Sam’s shoulder, breathing hard, moaning faintly.

 

“Shhh,” said Sam, gingerly stroking her back. “Shh..” She kissed Fi on the brow. “I _really_ hope nobody heard that.”

“’Sfine,” said Fi. “We‘re allowed.”

“Shhh,” said Sam, again. She was holding Fi like she was afraid she might run away again. “Good girl,” she added as an afterthought. Fi smiled and relaxed into her touch.

“You too...” said Fi. “Good girl. Thank you. Should I return the favor?”

Sam giggled. “If you want. I wanna hold you for a minute first though.”

“Mrrh.”

“It.. um.. I gotta admit it does taste good, though. I can’t quite place the flavor?”

“Oh! It’s -”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never know what to call a vagina in a sexual context. Vagina and labia and are just such.. unsexy words, and all the sexier ones are either kinda weirdly funny or else they're sometimes offensive. So I just sidestep the issue by circumlocuting it entierly. >_>


	10. A Dream

Vanessa sat awake in her bed, only half-watching an old drama and waiting for the sleeping pills to work. She never knew what to do this time of night. For a myriad of reasons she didn’t actually _want_ to go to sleep, so, reasoning that the pills could do the work for her, she would instead just sit in bed and idle until she happened to become unconscious. It was taking a while tonight, she observed. Well, it wasn’t like another night of three-hours sleep would kill her. Maybe she should take another pill...

Someone walked in through her bedroom door, stepping quietly but not at all trying to hide. Her silhouette had a tail. “Vanessa...?” she said, noiselessly closing the door behind her.

Vanessa pivoted, squinting in the darkness. “ _Fidelity?”_

“Yup, Fidelity,” she said, taking a few cautious steps towards the bed. “How, uh, how have you been?”

Vanessa grasped her hands, pulling her close. “Fidelity... Fidelity, what are you doing here? Is something wrong? Does your Master know where you are?”

“Yes? No? Uh, no, no nothing’s wrong. I just thought, it might be a good idea to talk to you. Or bad, maybe.” she glanced nervously at the IV cords poking out of Vanessa’s back, “It’s definitely either a good or a bad idea, for sure. Um, I am here with my Master’s permission, but, y’know, if you mean _him_ , _he_ died in the war. I have a new Master now.”

Vanessa stared at her, open eyed. “That’s... that’s right. The war. But then. Wait. Fidelity, what are you doing here?“

“Dream walking! I’ve been learning green magic!”

“ _You’ve_ been... are you okay? Are the rebels taking care of you? Are you hungry? Overworked? Do they tell you you’re a good girl often enough? You have a Master? Do you need anything?”

“ _The rebels_... you know we like, _won_ , Vanessa. We have as much land as you do. I think at some point we start just being _the people._ Everything’s. Everything’s fine. Mostly. My Master is great. Do you remember Ysolde? I think I told you about Ysolde.”

Vanessa nodded slowly. The soil was itchy and grainy beneath her bare feet so she paused to put on a pair of shoes as she spoke. “The name sounds familiar. I’d have to review your case notes.”

“My girlfriend from before the war. I belong to her now.” She seemed very amused by the concept.

“I thought the rebels were trying to free the slaves.”

“Yuuuuup, uh huh, yeah, we are.” Smirk. “All about freedom, right? But it turns out if you just let a girl languish after the empire’s _Reformation Program_ has its way with her, the result is less _freedom_ and more _abject misery_.”

“I’m glad they’re not letting you be miserable, at least.” She felt a little awkward. It was funny. Fidelity was always one of her favorites. Seeing her again had felt like such a relief somehow – but now she wasn’t sure what to say. She leaned against a nearby tree, feeling the soft give of fresh pine needles beneath her feet.

“What about you? Still helping the empire break people?”

“That’s not very charitable. Did we break you?”

Fi snatched a peach as they passed from a box of merchandise. The shopping district was a bustle of activity and nobody seemed to notice her petty larceny. She tilted her head back and forth weighing the question. “Yes. You broke me. Maybe not so bad I couldn’t be fixed, but brokenness was definitely a thing that took place.”

“You were happy...”

“I _wasn’t_. I... I’m doing okay now, but back then I really really wasn’t. And there’s still a lot of... trouble.”

“Do you wish we hadn’t?”

She sighed and took a bite of the chocolate before handing it to Vanessa. It helped a bit with the seasickness, from the gentle rocking of the boat. “That’s hard. It’s a bit like wishing I wasn’t me.” She paused. “No. I like what Master and I have. I don’t want to be someone else. But it was still wrong. It was still a wrong thing that you did that made me exist.”

Vanessa looked like she wanted to press the point, but thought better of it. The chocolate was good.

“So,” Fi said again, sitting down in Vanessa’s habitual chair behind the desk and steepling her fingers, “are you still doing it?”

Reluctantly, Vanessa sat down across from her. Seeing the familiar room from the other side made her feel small and anxious. “Yes,” she said. “It’s.. important for social order.”

“Gonna shape all the miserable people into good productive slaves?”

Vanessa almost smiled. “That’s the idea. Please don’t misunderstand, Fidelity. I know the empire does a lot of harm. But. It really is our best chance at.... _civilization_.”

“Our way works,” Fi said, producing a stack of photographs from the desk drawer – pictures of her and her friends hard at work putting the world together. Her and her Master embracing on a wood floor, evening light casting shadows over their bodies. The great city of West Bastion. “We have a civilization, too. And somehow we manage not to do _this_ to people.”

Vanessa looked doubtful. “It doesn't look like you have a lot of luxuries”

“Yeah we’re a little poor, compared to you maybe. We can’t have fresh fruit whenever we like because we don’t have _privileged access_ to the _imperial greenhouse_ but like? You? Upper class citizen, living in a capital... you do realize that the reason you _have_ all that is there are whole provinces of desperate people doing hard labor their whole short lives, right? We have what we need. Synthetic protein is basically fine. And we have more each day.” She rolled Vanessa’s bottle of sleeping pills across the desk to her, a strange wistful look on her face. “And like, you can’t sleep at night?”

Vanessa took the bottle. She idly took out a pill and swallowed it with a glass of water. “You’re making it sound worse than it is. Our poor have what they need, too. And..” she offered a hesitant smile, “that’s the beauty of working with people’s minds, isn't it? You can do almost anything with them. You just need to take away the parts that hurt.” She ran a hand over the stomach of the woman on the operating table.

Fidelity paced around the other side, holding a clipboard and wearing surgical clothes. She was trying to control it, but she couldn’t hide how her tail was swishing. “How is that supposed to work? You have fifty million green mages and surgeons to change the entire working class into happy thralls?”

“No.. it’s only for the most desperate situations. Like you.” She peered at the unconscious woman’s face. It looked familiar. Was it Fidelity? No.. what was her name...

“So you mean _fear_ then, after all,” Fi said. Eyes shining and face set, she grabbed the woman’s arm by the wrist. Vanessa felt a jolt of fear but she was miles away. She couldn’t stop Fi from tearing it off, as easily as a butterfly wing. “Be good or we’ll make you good. Fit in your box or we’ll cut off parts until you do.” She gave Vanessa her arm. Vanessa felt sick. “But you can’t. So you tuck in all your bits and keep your head down and try not to loose your job or go crazy and work and work and try to find some sort of life you can be okay with despite the fear and the exhaustion and you use pills to sleep at night.”

“I don’t..”

“You want to _make us happy_? It doesn’t. This doesn’t. You didn’t let us talk much to each other so we didn’t _know_ , but Vanessa I’ve met a _lot_ of us now, living free. It. It isn’t good for people. At the very, very best, we’re doing ‘okay’. A lot of us aren’t.”

“You were happy..”

“I wasn’t! I told you! _I wasn’t!_ You know, I've been studying green magic. I know a lot more about this now. Probably more than you. You make it sound all scientific and precise, but you really do have no idea what _exactly_ happens to a person when you cut out chunks of their brain and magic their thoughts into soup. We were _bargaining_ for my _intelligence_ , remember? But _intelligence isn't a_ _thing!_ ” Fi almost spat the words. Her tail was like a whip. Her eyes were coals. Vanessa couldn't look at her. “It's a.. lose collection of habits and faculties. It isn't a _liquid_ you can pour in and out. I .. I hated you, Vanessa.” The arm was getting blood everywhere. “I _hated_ you and then I couldn't. Do you know what that's like? To hate and then have your hatred just, scooped out of your head?”

Fi stopped abruptly and made a sort of strangled choking sound. She hung her head, avoiding both Vanessa's eyes and the eyes of her own corpse. She could feel the seeds of the seeds of tears forming inside her, but she was not yet crying. Vanessa, too, hung her head limply. She was very aware of the silence. Finally, Fi continued: “You can't _just make_ a person happy. It’s not that easy. And nobody in the empire cared about us.”

Vanessa blinked slowly. “I cared..”

“Vanessa... I know.” Fi walked over to her old case worker. The two women embraced, Fi squeezing tight resting her head against Vanessa’s shoulders. “You cared. Even in spite of all of everything. That’s probably why I went to you.”

“And your Master is dead?”

“And also he’s dead, yeah,” she said, not contradicting Vanessa on calling him her _Master_. “But Vanessa, caring about something doesn’t mean you can't hurt it. Like a child playing with butterflies.”

She couldn't think of a good response to that. It was hard to think clearly at all. She frowned in agitation. She ran her hand through the hair. Thin, straw-colored strands came off in her fingers.

“Well,” she said, finally, “what do you want, anyway. What do you expect meto do about it.”

“Shut down the facility? Liberate the slaves? If you need help, y’know, I personally planned seventeen successful operations – and one that went a _little_ south.” Vanessa stared in disbelief. “One of us got captured and reprogrammed by the enemy.. it was a whole thing. But you know, Vanessa, we still took down the radio tower.”

“I can’t tell if you’re - “

“Joking? Kinda sorta. You should do what you can to stop this. Or, like, at least youshould get _yourself_ out. And as many people as you can. You know our borders are open to refugees.”

“I could never... the empire would catch me. They'd make me like you...” Her voice was hoarse.

“Well,” said a whisper, “isn't that just telling...”

 

 

“Fidellity...” Vanessa rolled groggily out of bed. She didn’t feel especially rested. Which wasn’t surprising, all things considered. She had had _some_ kind of weird dream. It was about... she thought it was about her old patient?

 _That’s right_ , she thought as she poured herself a cup of coffee... and another. _She told me to flee the empire... go across the barrier with her_.

How _was_ Fidelity, she wondered. All of her old patients. She worried about them a lot. Hence the dream, she supposed. And some of the half-remembered words echoing in her head had a ring of truth to them. But to run for it...

She poured herself a third cup of coffee and weighed the question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this doesn’t come across as anti-sleeping pills :x Some people need pills to sleep and that’s fine!!


	11. Synthesis

Fi’s eyes jolted open. It was still the early morning – before dawn. She was wide awake. She didn’t feel particularly well rested, which was perhaps unsurprising, but she was full of a kind of nervous energy – her skin was sensitive enough that the night breeze on her face felt like a knife. It was a strange sensation. She pressed her fingertips against her throat, feeling the still-warm still-slightly-unfamiliar magicite that she now had set in her collar. Her Master’s arms were tight around her waist. She rolled over in her partner’s grip and nuzzled her face against her chest and neck, half from affection and half for relief from the wind.

Recalling dreams – and controlling them – was one of the most elementary practices of green magic, and after almost a year of training, Fi could do it with only a little effort. Closing her eyes and breathing in measured lengths, she walked herself through every detail of her dream. Vanessa’s dream. That’s right. It wasn’t hers, after all. Although she suspected that her own subconscious mind had had a role in some of it. _Their_ dream. It was both of theirs. The dream they had had together.

It had been a dangerous thing to do for someone of her inexperience, and she knew it. But she seemed unharmed and unfollowed.

Ys kissed her softly on the forehead and she realized her Master was awake.

“Good morning...”

“Good morning, pet. Pleasant dreams?”

Fi snuggled tighter up against her Master. “Yeah. More or less. It went well anyway. I think. I guess I couldn’t say if the _dream_ was good or bad. I think I had to rip off my own arm? Parts of it were nice though.” Ys kissed her again. Her smile was fond and gentle. “We had a good conversation, I think? Although I kind of ended up mostly yelling at her a lot. But I think maybe she ... understood, that what she did was wrong. What they did. What she helped them do. She didn’t apologize exactly but.” She shrugged weakly. “She cared. She wants to be good. Deep down.”

“I think most people want to be good, deep down. Very deep, sometimes. That’s the whole problem. It would be a lot easier to deal with if they were just _bad_.”

Fi smiled. She still felt strange. “Think she feels the same about _us_. The empire makes you think, like, that what good _is,_ is working for them. But the empire can’t control _good_.”

“And _you_ are the most good of all.” Her Master scratched her behind the ears and pet her back and she melted, in spite of the tension and sensitivity from the night’s ordeal. “Did you get your closure?”

“Yes, Master. As much as I’m gonna get anyway.”

“Good. Good girl.” Another kiss. “Now. I’d like you to get me a cup of coffee, and a bite to eat for yourself if you’re hungry. And take an ether if you need it.”

“Yes, Master. How would you like your coffee?”

“Oh, see if we still have any of the cinnamon flavoring left. If we do I want it. Otherwise, black. And I expect it to be _hot_ this time.” Her voice was serious but her smile was warm and genuine. She kissed Fi on the cheek and sat up, untangling herself. “Get going, girl.”

“Yes, Master!” Fi almost jumped to her feet. Her tail swished once as she stretched and busied herself with the wrangling up of her day clothes.

 

When Fi came back with Ys’s (hot) cup of (regrettably, black) coffee, she found her Master kneeling on the floor, deep in meditation. Something in her posture shifted as Fi entered the room – perhaps she saw the hint of a smile – but Ys did not open her eyes. Stepping gingerly, Fi placed the coffee at her Master’s side.

“You’ve become much more independent, Fi,” Ys said, startling Fi as she turned to walk away. Fi turned around. Her Master’s eyes were open now. She took the coffee and, with steady calm hands, brought it to her lips. “I’ve noticed you have less panic attacks these days, too. Something’s been working?”

Fi sat down facing her, crossing her legs – a much more comfortable position than the formal stiffness Ys adopted when she wanted to appear serious. But she was serious too, in her own way. “I’ve developed a lot of techniques, Master. I’ve gotten much better at anticipating your desires, for one thing. Like, internalizing the knowledge that you want me to flourish. It’s like having a tiny Master inside my head, who mostly tells me to do things that make me happy. It’s _almost_ like having normal emotions again.”

Ys smiled. “I think I endorse most of her suggestions.”

“And..,” Fi leaned forward intently as if she had a dark secret to reveal. “I figured out that if I pet _myself_ , and tell _myself_ I’m a good girl, it actually _does_ sort of help? A little? Not as much as when you do it, but. It tides me over.”

“Self-petting. Will wonders never cease.”

“I know! It’s like I unlocked a _secret_ , or a _cheat_. It’s even more wild than the time I learned that cats can pet cats.”

Ys took another sip of her coffee. “Do you need anything from me that you aren’t getting? Have I been neglecting you?”

Fi gave a half-smile and leaned her weight back. “Only a _tiny_ bit.”

“The other girls aren’t enough?”

“They help a _lot_ but _they’re_ not as good as you, _either_. I think you could praise me and fuck me all day and I’d still want more.” She grinned.

Ys laughed softly, although her smile looked a little sad. “Your old master must have been insatiable.”

“You’d think so, but no, not really! He neglected me a _ton_.” She drummed her fingers on the floorboard, mulling it over. “I think a lot of guys like the _idea_ of owning a girl who’s desperate for their touch and approval and wants sex like all the time, but mostly they don’t wanna do the work of actually taking care of us. We’re high maintenance.”

Ys shifted her own weight back a little. “It’s always a pleasure to hear you speak ill of him.”

Fi rolled her eyes. “That creep has no claim over me.” Then, suddenly realizing the truth of the words, she grinned, and sprang to her feet. “He doesn’t!! He has no claim over me!! I’m free!!”

 

Ys drank her coffee, waiting for her pet to calm down, and returned to a more proper sitting posture. “Fi,” she said at length, “I actually,” she hesitated. “This is a _request_ , not an _order_ , okay?”

Fi frowned dubiously. “Okay..?”

“My wonderful, good, pretty pet...” Her voice was soft, but there was a note of seriousness to it. “My girl. My talented, brilliant _novice green mage_. I want you to read my mind.”

Fi nodded. “Okay. Yes. Yes, Master. I think I can do that.” Very slowly, she kneeled on the floor again, facing her Master, knees almost touching. With her left hand she touched her collar. With her right, she reached out to touch her Master. Her breathing felt strangely labored.

 

It was like the thinnest of curtains. Like air. Only empty space was separating them. Her Master’s defenses were completely down. Her mind was bare before her. It was incredible. Exhilarating. Frightening. It was.

“Tell me what I’m thinking.”

“....... love,” she said in a small voice.

_You love me._

To touch it was beyond belief. She had heard the words so many times, but to feel it on her skin, like gentle water. To feel it like the breeze in her hair. Like the moonlight on her face.

_I love you. You’re good. Such a good girl. I adore you, more than anything. My precious. Mine._

_Master..._

She felt herself drifting – floating away, not sinking. Her Master would never let her sink. Her Master was here. Ys was here. She was here.

_I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about freedom._

_I know. So have I._

_We don’t become free from being left alone. Not really._

_We want each other._

_We want to be with each other._

_It is not freedom to be alone because we want to be with each other._

_It is not freedom to be alone because freedom is the development of ourselves._

_The development of our abilities._

_Our faculties._

_We can do very little alone._

_We need each other to become free._

_So if I can do more and not less owned by you_

_If you can do more and not less owned by me_

_If by being owned I can develop my own self_

_Develop the faculty for freedom_

_Than to become free,_

_I should be yours_

_You should be mine_

_It is right that you should own me_

_It is right that I should own you_

_But pet, you HAVE to be able to consent. You HAVE to be able to refuse. That HAS to be a particular faculty you develop._

_If I can learn to consent, I can keep being yours._

_If I can learn to refuse, I can keep being yours._

_Of course, pet._

_Forever._

_For as long as you want_

_Until the world is mended._

_I love you_

_I love you_

 

_My pet._

 

_Mine_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Telling Fi to get you coffee is a good way to keep her busy.
> 
> And also Ys has a Habit
> 
> I think ‘almost a year’ is on the short end of how long it takes to be able to cast actual spells. Fi is very talented. I just didn’t want this to be five years later or something.


	12. Mine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sex chapter! (features masochism)

It felt like hours passed before she returned to her body, but by the faint light of dawn it must have only been a few minutes. The world felt fuzzy, and loud. Every bump or creak, the wind against the window, the hissing sound of running water in another room, felt sharp and painful in her ears. She was shaking, her breathing labored. Ys, too, unfolded her legs from beneath her and sprawled back, breathing with light exertion, smiling. Fi crawled forward on her hands and legs and touched her Master gently on the arm. Ys put an arm around her and pulled her into a gentle embrace. The two stayed like that for quite some time. Close to each other. Not talking. It felt like there was nothing to be said.

Ys squeezed Fi tight. “How are you feeling, pet?”

“Tired. Never done that before. Takes a lot out of you, apparently.”

Ys nodded. “It was some serious spellcasting, and right after last night, too. Sorry to push you so hard.”

“No don’t be. It was.. it was something.”

“Do you need water? Another ether?”

“Why, is there going to be more magic? Seems like a waste of an ether maybe.” She paused. “Water would be nice. Don’t wanna get up though.”

“I don’t plan on making you cast any more spells, no. But being empty isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, is it?” She brushed the back of her fingertips softly against Fi’s tired face. “Sit tight for a second. I’ll go get us something to drink.”

 

Fi tucked herself back in under the heavy comforter and pressed her face against the pillow, trying to make the ringing stop. It wasn’t long before Ys came back with two tall glasses of water. Fi propped herself up and eagerly gulped it down. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she had been. Ys took a few sips of her own glass, and, seeing how quickly Fi had drained hers, wordlessly proffered it. Fi drained that one too.

Fi sighed, stretched her neck, and pulled herself up, leaning against the wall. “You do miss it, though,” she said.

“Hmm?”

Fi spread her fingers, and then made firsts, stretching out her hands. “The way things used to be? The old me? The old you?” Ys gave her one of those almost-sad half-smiles and nodded. “The way I used to top you.”

 _That_ got a laugh.

“Y’know, Master, you could _ask_ ,” said Fi.

“It wouldn’t be the same, would it. If I ordered you to top. It doesn’t really have the same appeal.”

Fi closed her eyes, as if searching for something. Her past self, maybe, buried deep. Or the voice of the tiny Ys in her head. It was louder now, after this morning. After she had touched her Master’s mind so directly. She knew. There was no doubt – she _knew_ what Ys wanted...

 

She leaned forward, stroking Ys’s face, using her nails just a _little_. Ys shuddered, and seemed to almost go limp in her arms. It had been so long.. so long... Fi felt a strange nervous apprehension. Almost as if it were her first time. But she knew how to do this. With a sudden roughness, she pushed Ys down on the bed, propping herself on top. She ripped off Ys’s shirt and tossed her own to the side. Breathing heavily, not speaking, she ran her fingers all over Ys’s chest, and arms, and stomach. Just feeling her. Just feeling.

She leaned over, and kissed her on the neck, and the shoulder. Ys moaned slightly. “Tease..”

But Fi slapped her on the face with the back of her hand, eyes severe. “I’ll tease you if I like,” she said, with a forcefulness that surprised herself.

_That’s right. I’ve done this before._

Ys didn’t move her head from the mattress. She was breathing heavily now. Her eyes were closed. Fi put her mouth to Ys’s shoulder, and kissed. And bit. Her sharp canines drew blood. That was new. Ys moaned again, more loudly this time.

“Ys,” Fi muttered. “Ys, Ys, Ys, Ys, Ys, Ys, Ys.” She pressed her fingers against the puncture wound she’d made, felt the warm blood welling up. _Her Master’s_ blood. With a rough motion, she smeared it against Ys’s sternum, and grabbed her jaw, kissing her roughly. “ _Ys_.”

“F—Fi”

Fi leaned back and _smacked_ Ys in the chest with the flat of her hand. Ys exhaled sharply. Fi dug in with her fingers, and scratched hard, leaving faint marks on Ys’s pale skin.

“God I missed doing this. You’re so beautiful bloodied.”

“I.. I missed it too,” Ys managed. Fi grabbed the side of her face and pushed it down, pinning her to the mattress, grinning wildly. She kissed her, again and again. And another bite; two more ruby droplets of blood. Ys cried out.

 

“Ready for it?” Fi said, grabbing the bottle of lube from the alcove above. It wasn’t a question. “Want me inside you?”

Ys could only moan softly. Fi quickly undid her belt and after a bit of struggle had before her a completely naked, _gorgeous_ woman.

“Look at _you_ ,” Fi said, idly stroking Ys’s girldick with just the tips of her fingers. She was hard. “You can _still_ get like this. I bet you could fuck me if you wanted. Do you wanna fuck me?” Ys looked up at her, the conflict evident in her eyes. Fi slapped her again. “You really are a ridiculous slut.” Ys moaned and mutely nodded.

“Ys..” she muttered again, lining up her fingertips. Saying the name so plainly filled her with a sort of thrill. She could almost imagine ... she could almost remember.

They’d done this so many times.

“I used to love making you all messed up,” she said calmly, sliding a finger inside. Her other hand was still working Ys’s cock. “Ruining something beautiful. Scarring something perfect.”

“Do you.. do you still?”

Fi smiled mildly, tilting her head as if she were having a calm academic debate and not at that exact moment bringing a squirming bloody girl to climax beneath her. “Y’know what? I think I do. I think I still do like doing this. Now and again, for sure.”

“You’re still..”

“I’m still her. In spite of everything, I am still her.” She added a second finger, still thrusting fast. She removed the hand that was on Ys’s cock and smacked her _hard_ on the thighs, and the stomach. Ys moaned, loudly this time, her voice coming out in staccato chirps squirming under her hands, breathing hard.

“Beautiful,” said Fi, smiling fondly. “My beautiful Master.” She crawled up next to her, to hold her tight as she came. Touching her on the back and the thigh and the chest as her other hand kept stroking her cock. As her Master shuddered in her hands.

 

It took a surprisingly long time for Ys to finish and come down. “Fi..,” she said, almost breathing the name.

Fi grinned shamelessly. _“That was crazy hot!_ Did you like it, Master?”

“ _So much_. Thank you.” Ys kissed her right on the lips. It was perhaps less assertive than Fi had become used to. Her Master was in a dazed bliss.

“Are you gonna want that often? I guess if it ‘wouldn’t be the same the same’ if you order me...”

“Now and then,” said Ys. “Surprise me.”

Fi swished her tail in assent. “Will do, Master! Now and then. Time to time. Dunno if I’d wanna go for it every time we have sex. But it _was_ hot.”

The two cuddled quietly, simply enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies. The sounds of the morning. The memories of their years together, and the promise of a future. They were safe. They had each other. The fighting was over. All they had to do now was heal.

“I think we’re gonna have to do something about the blood stains, though,” Fi said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Catgirls have very sanitary mouths. It’s fine.


	13. Epilogue: The Human Project

She sat facing away from the door, hands folded neatly in her lap, breathing in shallow breaths. She was still extremely tense. Perhaps even more tense than she had been during the long weeks on the open road. She couldn’t help it. She tried to be grateful she was alive, to remind herself that things could have gone much, much worse. That she would at least have some semblance of life, here, if a shabby one. But she was choked by useless anxiety. Everything felt unfamiliar. Even the room she waited in, which was _almost_ familiar, was arranged differently than the offices she had known. It was a small thing, but it was a tangible reminder even in here, surrounded by clean white walls, that she was not at home.

Finally, mercifully, came a knock at the door. “Come in,” she said on reflex, before she could start to wonder if that was the _exactly correct_ etiquette here. It seemed to serve well enough. The door opened and a functionary stepped in. Or was he a councilor? A social worker? _It doesn’t matter_ , she reminded herself. _Nobody expects you to know what’s going on. You won’t be in trouble for getting someone’s job title wrong._

“Hello, nice to meet you,” the functionary(?) said. “My name is Fredric. I hope you weren’t waiting long?”

“Not too long,” said Vanessa, although it had felt long enough. “Vanessa Martin. Although I’m sure you already knew that.” Fredric nodded, smiling calmly. He was trying to put her at ease – she could tell. She’d done this herself many times. _It’s not like there’s anything I could do if I tried to back out NOW, anyway_ , she thought. _I might as well let this happen_.

Thinking it didn’t do much to lessen her tension. 

“It’s a real pleasure to meet you. Is Vanessa how you would prefer to be addressed? And may I make a quick note of your pronouns?”

She almost laughed out loud at the question, in spite of the weight of her anxiety. It was a strange thought. But – come to think of it, she could change her name to anything, couldn’t she? She could tell them she was a man named Charles and nobody would stop her.

She spent maybe more time than she would care to admit mulling over it before saying, “Vanessa is fine. Female pronouns.”

“She/her?”

_What, are there other –_ “Yes. She/her. Thank you.”

“Alright,” Fredrik said as if he sensed her hesitation. “You can have those changed at any time.” Vanessa just nodded. 

“So, what happens now is we assign you someone to show you around and explain the basics of how things work and what’s expected of you. Then afterwards, you’ll go off to live as a provisional member of some ward or commune for a while – until you get your bearings. Someone there will be responsible for helping you integrate and seeing to any difficulties you have – health problems, logistical problems, emotional or social problems .. usually these are different people, but..”

“But?”

“Well first, do you have any requests? Any people you want to get in touch with?”

“No.. there’s no one...”

“That’s interesting,” he said, taking out a sheet of paper from the file he was carrying, “because we have a request for _you_.” Vanessa blinked. She couldn’t think why – “Member of a university commune out north. Has a background in social work. Green mage. Claims to be an acquaintance of yours. We can hand you off to her care immediately, assuming you approve.” He handed the file over.

Vanessa’s shock only increased when she had a chance to look.

 

Three months ago, before she had left the capital, Vanessa would have thought Central West Bastion looked miserably desolate, but after so long traveling in the wasteland, the short shrubby plants and rows of young saplings looked like a miracle of growth. She had almost forgotten the smell of green life. The crowd here, too, was somehow different. She must be being watched somehow, she reasoned, but they were being extremely unobtrusive about it. She wasn’t sure if the absence of armed guards was a comfort or a concern, but after her time as a refugee on the open road, she was perhaps inclined to think the former.

And there, standing where she said she would be, propped up against the “ridiculous horse mural” (You’ll know when you see it, she had written, and Vanessa had to admit that this was true) was –

“Fidellity!” In spite of herself she broke into a run, just stopping herself from hugging her former patient in the middle of the street. Instead she came to an awkward stop in front of the catgirl.

Fi gave her a broad warm just _slightly_ wild grin, removing herself from the wall “It’s Fi these days,” she said.

“Your name’s -”

“Fi,” said Fi.

“Fi,” repeated Vanessa.

Fi put a hand on her hips, ears perked up and tail moving gently. “I feel like I should say ‘good girl’ here or something,” she said.

Vanessa half-laugh-half-exhaled and cast her eyes down. “I certainly couldn’t stop you.“

“No. That’s- Vanessa?” Fi was no longer grinning. “This is actually really important. Look, if I ever do something you want me to stop, the thing you do is hold your hand like this,” she held out her hand in front of herself in a sort of warding gesture, “and you say, ‘Fi, stop it.’” Vanessa tilted her head. “There are other techniques! But those are the basics. You’re a comrade! You might be a member of _my commune!_ You don’t gotta put up with people harassing you.”

“ _Provisional_ member,” Vanessa said.

“That just means we’re not gonna ask you to sit on any committees for maybe a year or two. And we don’t expect you to start work right away. It absolutely _doesn’t_ make you second class, okay?”

Vanessa still looked dubious. “Okay,” she said.

“Gonna try this again,” said Fi. “ _Do you want me to call you a good girl_.”

“I.. don’t know?” _What’s the right answer_.

Fi nodded. “Alright. We can work on that. Well, but, how have you been? It’s been eight years? I didn’t know if you’d actually make it out!”

“Almost ten years, I think. If I have my dates right.”

“It’s been eight years since I visited you in that dream!”

“That was-“ her eyes went wide “what? That was _real?”_

“Um, yes! I’m a green mage and stuff, now,” Fi said, poking the green stone on her collar and laughing a little under her breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you didn’t realize!”

“I.. that’s right, they did mention.” Vanessa touched a finger to her lips, pursing them in contemplation. “Well. What a world. And you’re a social worker green mage.” It occurred to her in a flash that Fi was probably reading her mind. She didn’t know what to do with this thought. Probably nothing.

“Yeah, I’m your case worker!” Fi’s tail did its familiar swish. If she _was_ listening, she did a good job of ignoring Vanessa’s near insubordination. She glanced at the station clock “I got us a reservation for dinner, so we can have a bite and talk about the basics and stuff. It’s the fanciest place in the station. You’ll love it, it’s practically imperial. But, uh, we still got an hour to wait. Are you hungry? Wanna go to a bakery to tide us over?”

“Very. Please. It’s been days since I’ve had a completely satisfactory meal.”

 

The bakery smelled incredible. It was a small place, with no room to sit down – just an oven in back and rows of small breads and pastries in front. The baker was sitting in the back, reading something on their handheld and half watching the oven, half watching the door. Fi waved as she entered. The baker nodded their head and looked up to keep an eye on the two but otherwise left them alone. It struck Vanessa as terribly rude, but Fi took a pair of tongs and a paper bag, completely undaunted, and tossed in a doughnut and a pastry. “See anything you like?”

“The brown rolls are fresh from the oven, if you want” said the baker, saving Vanessa from having to make a decision. Imitating Fi, she grabbed a pair of tongs herself and took two.

“Thank you!” Said Fi, waving again and wheeling out of the bakery, pausing only to return the tongs to the rack.

“Enjoy,” said the baker, returning to their book.

Vanessa trotted after Fi, startled by her abruptness of the exchange.

 

“So, you can just _take_ the bread?

“Uh huh,” Fi said, sitting down on a bench and fishing through her bag. “It’s ours! We have plenty of bread, there’s no problem.”

“Is this something you’re going to go over at my orientation?”

“We can do it now!” Said Fi. “It’s a good _object lesson_.” She gestured with her doughnut. “So daily life things like the bread, or clothing, or most things really, you can just take if you want, as long as there’s plenty. If something’s being _rationed_ , like if there’s a shortage, or for things like seats in a fancy restaurant, that’s usually done by lottery, although every commune is different. If you can demonstrate you have some _need_ , then you get priority. Like, for the restaurant, uh, an anniversary would do it. Or, for that matter,” she said, giving Vanessa a pointed look, “‘I’m entertaining a new comrade who only just escaped from the empire.’ That counts as a need.” Vanessa couldn’t help smiling a little. “For like, medicine, or magicite, or tools, needs are usually more... _needs-_ y.”

“And.. there’s no money at all?”

“People exchange things informally. There isn’t a currency.” She took a bite of the doughnut and crossed her legs. “We just, at the start of every year we do a bunch of _math_ and the committees discuss our _objectives_ and we figure out about how much labor we need to keep everything running. And then we add 20% because people are disabled and sometimes things come up and it’s probably better to overestimate than under. Commune members sign contracts where we agree to do our share of _essential labor_ – and in exchange we get all the doughnuts we want! Assuming there isn’t a critical doughnut shortfall.”

Vanessa kept smiling, but her lips were tight. She felt like she was approaching dangerous territory, but she had to ask. “And if I don’t do the work?”

Fi grinned mysteriously and leaned back on the bench. “What’s wrong? Worried you can’t handle it? It’s really not so bad. Machines are _way_ good these days. I bet it’s less than they made you work in the empire. This year it was 700 hours, total.”

Vanessa exhaled sharply. “Fidelity – “

“Fi.”

Right. She felt a wave of hot shame hit her. “I’m so sorry. Fi – I wish,“ she looked around darkly, and sat down on the bench next to her, leaning forward. She felt miserable –probably more miserable than she should. She was alive. They were going to let her live if she kept her head down. She didn’t _need_ to know all this. But it was eating at her. “I’m not stupid, you know. I wish you would just tell me. Everything’s so wrapped in innuendo here, and I don’t understand what I’m doing. What are the consequences if I refuse to work? I’m – afraid.” She was. The truth of those words hit her as she said them. “Help me.”

Fi folded her arms and put down the doughnut. She stopped grinning. “Vanessa, I’m sorry. I was having a bit of fun with you, I admit. But there’s no trick.” She drummed her fingers on the bench. “Usually if people won’t work, it’s because they’re _sick_. So if you kept refusing to work, the first consequence would be that I’d have to try to figure out what was _wrong_. And if it was that you couldn’t do your assignment for some reason, I’d have to work with you to find something you didn’t hate. So if you wanna be _punished_ ,” there was the grin again, “I could be really obnoxious about it.”

Vanessa blinked.

“And if it really did seem like you were _malingering,_ ” Fi continued, “well, you’d lose your good standing. But that just means you wouldn’t be picked to serve on committees and you couldn’t vote on stuff. The bigger consequence I guess is that your comrades would probably be annoyed with you, which isn’t very fun. And just on a really basic level, you wouldn’t be fully participating in society? Most people – like most people by _a lot_ \- are happiest when they’re pitching in a bit. Doing their part. Solidarity, y’know? It works. You’ll see.”

Vanessa folded her arms, too. She couldn’t think of anything to say, for a while. Dimly, she recalled the bread and realized she was hungry. She nodded as if it made sense, and took a bite. It was still warm, and quite good. “And,” she said, finally, “this is _your_ part?”

Fi shook her head. “Technically this is leisure.”

“This is leisure?!”

“I find it really fulfilling! I’m on maintenance duty at the moment actually. Social work _is_ essential labor, but it’s a bit special, like committees. We only get to count it for half of our hours in a year. We’re trying to avoid, like, letting there be a _class_ that just _manages people?_ Or, y’know. A class that just mindlessly works. Which is why everyone has to serve on committees now and then.”

“And you do social work in your free time.”

“I don’t _just_ do social work. I also have a lot of sex.” She grinned. “And our commune is trying to establish a _university_. I don’t know if I’d say I’m a _scholar_ , but I like going to lectures and talking about stuff. And I study green magic and I do free running and martial arts. And sex. Did I mention the sex?”

“You did.”

“I have a _stupid_ amount of sex.”

Vanessa smiled in spite of herself. “So you kept the changes to your sex drive, I take it.”

Fi stood up, and paced forward a few steps. She looked almost pensive. “I kept most of it. Just filled in the ... holes. Got rid of the blocks. Fixed up my emotional regulation a bit. But, you know Vanessa. Wanting praise? Being cherished? _Belonging?_ That’s what we’re _about,_ in a way.” She stretched out her arms in a sort of grand gesture, and turned back around to face her. “Everyone deserves a chance to be a good girl. Or boy. Or anything. Whatever they like.”

 

They finished their food in silence. There was still some time before their reservation, so in no particular hurry they made their way up to the top floor of the station, where the restaurant was. Fi greeted the workers by name - it was clearly not her first time here - and the two of them were seated in a small intimate booth with a large window, overlooking the station plaza. It was a stunning view: the shining buildings seemed to stretch endlessly into the distance. 

“Look at that,” said Fi, suddenly. “Our comrades. Our works. We built this, you know. And we’re going to keep building, and healing.” Vanessa swallowed. ”The world will be green again. And we will spread to the cosmos. We will grow in wisdom, and power. Live for thousands and millions of years. And more” She leaned forward, almost whispering. “We will achieve the resurrection of the dead. And then...?” her tail swished. She smiled – almost wistfully. “Well, I don’t know. I’m not sure the present me can even imagine what kind of things humanity will be concerned about or do with its time in the distant distant future. But I think, Vanessa, that whatever it is it’s something phenomenal. _We_ are the good in this world, and it’s on us to fill the darkness with light. Until the world is mended.”

Vanessa couldn’t think of anything meaningful to say. “I see,” she said.

Fi laughed. “Sorry! Sorry to get all _eschatological!_ But it’s just something my Master likes to say sometimes. Anyway, so what are you in the mood to eat?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, if you read this, thank you so much for reading! I've never actually managed to finish a creative project before. It's a weird emotion. I'd be delighted to hear any feedback if you have it.
> 
> Pretty early on as I was writing, it became really clear to me that this was to some extent a meditation on my own values and history and desires. In that capacity it was really helpful to me. I think I'm pretty happy with the place Fi and I came to by the end of the story.
> 
> Regarding the politics, I wanted to say that this is basically a utopian fantasy. I certainly wouldn't claim any of this is a feasible or realistic blueprint for our world. I don't really know anything, and I'm pretty new to anarchism as a philosophy.
> 
> All we can do is our best; all we have is each other. Have a wonderful day!


End file.
